Paradigm Shifts
by GwenCThompson
Summary: It started out simple, he was my neighbor's weird cousin. But then he saved my life. And became my brother's keeper. Soon we were best mates. After that it became complicated because I had to choose between my world and his and navigate more than friendly feelings for my lifetime friend and whenever I thought I knew what was going on, I was blindsided. JSP/OC
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc. belongs to Rowling!

* * *

**Chapter 1: Meeting**

**Or**

**Over the Picket Fence**

**July 2012**

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. _You can do this Isabelle, _I told myself, _you can kick the ball straight. Just like coach said, just like Pele does, just like you've seen on TV from the World Cup. All you need to do is focus._

I took another deep breath, opened my eyes, took a step forward and kicked –

"JAMES POTTER!"

The yell startled me and I kicked the football all wonky, sending it over the white picket fence and into my neighbor's yard.

I watched as a red haired woman opened a window of the neighbor's house to let out a stream of blue smoke. Then the door flew open and the woman stood in the threshold yelling at someone inside. "You are in so much trouble, young man! No! I don't care; outside for the rest of the afternoon!"

A boy about my age, with black messy hair and rectangular glasses strutted outside with a crooked grin on his face.

"And wipe that smirk off your face!" She continued "Merlin! And Angelina claims Fred is worse than you!" With that the woman, who I assumed the boy's mum, walked back inside.

"Hullo!" I called out.

The boy seems surprised by my voice and turned to look at me. "Hullo."

"Can you get my football?" I asked.

"Your _what_?"

"My football."

He wrinkled his nose. "I don't know _what_ you're talking about."

Sighing, I walked over to the fence, which comes up to my chin, and leaned over the side.

"My football." I pointed to the very visible black and white ball a meter away from him. "I kicked it over the fence; can you pass it to me?"

"Oh, sure." He picked it up, walked over to the fence and handed it to me. Then he introduced himself with a flourish. "I'm James Serious Potter."

I sat the ball at my feet. "That's a weird name."

"What? My name's spectacular!"

"Well half of it is plain, that's the James part; and half of it is goofy, that's the Potter part; and half of it is weird, that's the Serious part. I mean, what kind of name is Serious? That's like saying 'Hullo my name is Boring or Excited or Relaxed."

"S-I-R-I-U-S. Not S-E-R-I-O-U-S. And I'm named after famous War Heroes that I'm actually related to. Well, I'm not related Sirius Black technically, but he was my Dad's Godfather so it counts."

"I've never heard of any famous person called James, Sirius or Potter. And there hasn't been a real war in years! A war hero can't have been your Dad's Godfather."

He just rolled his eyes. "Well what's _your_ name?"

"Isabelle Miranda Cross." I said sticking out my hand.

He shook it. "Sounds like it belongs to an old lady."

"What? It's beautiful. Isabelle was a Queen, Miranda sounds like some movie-star and Cross is a secret service agent."

"How old are you?"

"Six." I replied.

"Well, I'm seven."

"I'll be seven in November, that's only four months away."

"I turned seven back in February. I'm over half a year older than you."

"Whatever. Was that your Mum earlier?"

He nodded.

"What did you do to make her so mad?"

He opened his mouth then thought the better of it. "Just a prank."

"Really? I like doing pranks too! At football practice I dyed all the water green. Three of the girls and one of the boys puked."

"What ninnies."

"I know, right? So why are you here anyway?" I asked.

"Visiting my Dad's family. He grew up with Uncle D."

"That must have been nice." I said. "The Dursley's are the nicest folks I know."

"I think Uncle D was mean to Dad when they were little though."

"Really? Well, Mr. Dursley is pretty big, he could beat up anyone he wanted to."

"Yeah, but my Dad could've fought him. My Dad's an auror."

"A what?"

"You know a wiz- I mean. He's a, a, a copper. A really good one."

"Oh. You want to play football?"

"What?"

"Football, do you want to play with me?"

"What's football?"

"Seriously? Football, you know: Pele, FIFA, the beautiful game, South Africa, 'when I get older I will be stronger,' Spain, 'Waka Waka,' balls and feet only. You know, the _sport_… You're not American are you?"

"What? No, I'm English just like you. But I know a sport's no good unless it has broomsticks. My Uncle Ron told me that."

"Brooms? There's no such thing as a sport with broomsticks. Unless you're playing street hockey I suppose..."

"Whatever. You wouldn't understand."

"Why? Cause I'm a girl? I know everything about the best sports. I know all the ways to get a foul in football."

"That wondrous broomstick-less game?" He asked derisively.

"Yeah. And football's the best sport in the world. My Dad told me that."

"I don't think so. Quidditch is the best."

"That's not even a word."

"It is too!"

You're weird."

"Well you're a muggle."

I didn't even know what a muggy was but I could tell it was a mean word."That wasn't very nice." I said and then turned around and ran inside.

Every holiday the Potters would visit the Dursleys for a day or two. More often than not James would be banished outdoors. We would greet each other thusly:

"Hullo, James Sirius Potter."

"Hullo, Isabelle Miranda Cross."

"Pull any good pranks lately?"

"Yes, and you?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what Quidditch is yet?"

"No. Do you know what football is yet?"

"No."

That was the extent of our relationship. That is until Christmas of 2015 when we were eleven. That time it went differently.

**December 2015**

"Hullo, James Sirius Potter."

"Hullo, Isabelle Miranda Cross."

"Pull any good pranks lately?"

"Yes, you?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what Quidditch is yet?"

"No. Do you know what football is yet?"

"No... I heard your Mum died, I'm sorry."

My Mum had died in October. I hated talking about it. So I punched him and ran inside. I was disappointed though because when I saw him leave he didn't even have a black eye.

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Author's Note: Hello all. My name's Gwen. I'm pretty nervous about all this (who isn't their first time) so this is just me nicely asking for a review. And I'd like to thank alexiroseni for beta-ing for me. Check out her story! It's really good and I recommend it (if only to admire **my** grammar/editing skills).

Best Wishes, Gwen


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc. belongs to Rowling!

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**Chapter 2: After the Epilogue or the Transgressions of the Arse**

**September 1, 2017 (AKA Day of the DH Epilogue)**

"Firs' years this way! Firs' years this way! Hullo James." The great giant smiled down at James.

"Hullo Hagrid, have you seen my brother?"

"Yeah. 'im and Rosie are already in the boats with a few others."

"Oh." James tried to hide his disappointment. His reunion with Fred and his other mates had distracted him and he had lost track of Albus on the train. Not that James was worried about his brother… not at all. He just, he just wanted to get in some more teasing before the sorting, that was it. After all he would only be a scared first year for a couple more hours and then James wouldn't have anyone to frighten about sorting. Fred had mentioned teasing Lily but the idea was so disgusting James refused to give it thought. Lily was an excellent tease but he would never torture his sister like he tortured Al, she was his sister for Merlin's sake!

"James! Do you need a carriage? We have room here!" Isla McLaggen tittered from a carriage filled with giggling girls, none of whom James knew very well.

"Er… no I've already got a carriage with my cousins."

"Oh, okay." She pouted.

James ran through the crowds until he found the tell-tale red locks of a Clanner. It was Dominique, Uncle Bill's second daughter and a 5th year.

"Hullo, Dom."

"Hullo, James. Finished torturing Albus?"

"Naw. Hopefully I'll catch up with at the castle. Do you have a carriage yet?"

"Yes and it's full of my boyfriend's Hufflepuff mates. But it looks like they've got a little room." Dominique was pointing to a carriage containing a few third year girls, all of them wearing at least five pounds of make-up and waving at him.

"Yeah, that's real funny." James rolled his eyes. James had long ago discovered that any girl he was not related to was silly.

"James! Code 5!" A voice from behind him shouted. It was Fred II, Uncle George's son.

"Fred! What's the occasion? And where do you come off abandoning me on the train?"

"Vic's best friends with Siobhan Wood – Quidditch Captain this year y'know? I think I put in a good word for me, you and Louis."

"Awesome!" James and Fred climbed into an empty carriage.

"But what's the Code 5 about?" Over the years Fred and James had formed a series of codes referring to how badly a prank needed to be done. Code 5 was rather high on the chart.

"Two words, each one more disgusting than the last: Scorpius Malfoy."

Louis Weasley, Dominique's brother and a third year, joined them. "I heard he's not so bad. Dad's worked with his Mum at Gringotts before."

"That's discounting the prat's prattish father." Fred spat back.

"Prattish isn't a word Fred. Didn't you lot _see _the way Uncle Harry and Ron looked at him?" Molly, Uncle Percy's eldest, said entering the carriage. "I mean Uncle Harry and he have a sort of begrudging respect for each other after they worked on that Neo-Purist case in Belfast last year but Uncle Ron _still _clearly hates the man."

"Lord, Molly, you weren't even near us…do you see everything?" James asked. "How is it that she sees everything?!"

"It's sort of understandable, though." Fred commented. "I mean Aunt Hermione isn't exactly _shy _about her scar; no matter what Uncle Ron says or does. And that happened in _his _manor."

"Yeah, good thing it was razed to the ground all those years ago." Molly shuddered as the carriage started to move towards the castle.

"But what about Aunt Andi?" Louis questioned.

"What about her?" James replied, his voice dangerously cold.

"Well, you know, she's Ted's grandmother and her sister is Malfoy's grandmother. In fact, I think I remember Teddy saying something about hanging out with Malfoy. They're related you know."

This was too much for James. He jumped up and pointed his wand at his cousin. "Take it back! Take it _back_!"

"Calm down, James. It's the truth." Molly said annoyed.

"Teddy Lupin is one of the greatest wizard I know and it's not his fault he's cursed with scum for blood relatives!"

"We all know that, mate." Fred said, pulling James back into his seat. "No one was implying anything bad about Teddy."

Louis put a hand to his chin, thinking out loud. "But you know he did live with his Grandmother for some time. And after Lucius Malfoy died Narcissa Black started going by her maiden name again and went to live her sister. So it makes sense that…"

"Shut your face, Louis." James spat. "**We** are Ted's family. He doesn't need Death Eater spawn for company."

"I was just saying…"

"Something stupid, we got that. You're forgiven." Everyone rolled their eyes but James ignored them, remembering the start of the conversation." I nearly forgot Fred, why is it so urgent that we pull a prank on the ferret?"

"Wait, why is he a ferret?" Molly interjected.

"Surely you know the story…" Louis said incredulous. "Oh, c'mon even _I _know the story and Mum didn't even speak English then. Barty Crouch Jr., under the guise of Mad Eye Moody, turned Draco Malfoy into a ferret during the Tri-Wizard Tournament my Mum and Uncle Harry were in."

"_Anyway,_" Fred began then seemed to change his mind. "Actually, James, you're looking dangerous enough right now… I'm not sure if I should tell you..."

"Honestly, Fred?" Molly asked. "They can do what they want, there's no need to beat Malfoy up over a game of Gobstones. And telling James would only make things awful for the whole school!"

"Wait, what?" James nearly yelled. "What aren't you telling me?"

Fred looked torn and Molly sighed and poked him in the chest. "How idiotic can you be? Don't you remember when Albus beat him at Quidditch that one year?"

"Hey, the little git cheated and he deserved what he got!" James interjected.

"You see? This would be a million times worse!" Molly insisted

"Am I missing something?" Louis asked, first in French, then in English.

"No," Molly said firmly.

"Well, yes, but not now. I'll tell you later."

"So Louis can know but I can't?" James fumed. "And it's got something to do with _my_ brother?"

"Yeah, no." Fred said. "This was a bad idea. And Rosy was there too so, never mind. No worries, James. Ignorance is bliss for you and peace for us. Thanks for saving us from the Armageddon, Molly."

"Wait, so this has to do with Rose too? You know she doesn't have an older brother? It's up to us, and especially me, to…"

"Stop being so conceited, James." Molly spat back. "Fred was being stupid, none of this is your business."

"This is entirely my business!"

But by now they had reached the castle.

"See you around, boys." Molly said as she and Louis moved toward a group of third years.

As James walked to the castle he tried to put together the pieces of the puzzle. Scorpius Malfoy was git. Rose was a naïve little girl. Albus was an idiot. And something about Gobstones. James passed by the lake and saw the first years moving toward the castle. He caught a glimpse of Al's distinctive messy hair that was so much like his own. Rose was next to him and he was about to call out a joking threat about ending up in Slytherin when he noticed they were laughing at something a blonde boy had said. The other boy turned and James felt like he was watching his little brother and cousin swimming in dragon dung in public and enjoying themselves. They were conversing with, laughing with, Scorpius Malfoy. Suddenly the truth came crashing down like a ton of bricks. He turned to his cousin.

"Fred, why didn't you tell me while we were still on the train?" He could've put an end to this immediately but now he was barred from the sickening trio for at least another half hour.

Fred refused to look at him. "Molly was right. It was stupid of me to consider telling you at all."

"It was stupid of you to think that you shouldn't tell me! Or that you didn't feed Malfoy to a thestral!"

"Let's just get inside for the sorting, James." James nearly knocked over three second years and a few fourth year girls as he made his way to the Gryffindor table. He tried to sit far away from his family but Louis and Fred caught up with him.

"You look like you've just been betrothed to a flobberworm." Louis commented.

"Shut your face before I shut it for you." was James' dark reply.

"He found out what Molly and I tried to keep from him earlier." Fred said quietly.

"Al and Rose shared a compartment with the Malfoy kid, they played Gobstones and seemed to be having a time of it. They were acting like, well, like friends."

"That's disgusting!" James spat.

"I really don't see the issue. I mean it's just Gobstones." Louis said, looking confused.

"Would you ever play anything with a Slytherin?" Fred asked.

"No, but they're first years. They're unsorted."

James snorted. "Kids of Ex-Death Eaters _always _end up in Slytherin. And Rose and Albus will be Gryffindor. It goes against the forces of nature, for them to… consort with each other."

"Well Rose could be a Ravenclaw…" Fred commented.

"Shut it, the Sorting Hat's here." A fifth year boy yelled at them.

James didn't hear the song though, he was too busy plotting revenge. Malfoy didn't deserve something simple like a misspelling quill on a test. He needed to get the message loud and clear: stay away from the Weasley-Potter Clan. Albus would need a talking to too. What kind of idiot was he? Malfoys were evil. There was no other way to it. And Rose, little Rosy-Posy would need a little lecture too. If she didn't watch herself she could end up in real trouble, letting something like that into her compartment.

The sorting started with Amherst, Diana in Ravenclaw. The last name sounded familiar from Aunt Hermione's Ministry friends but James wasn't really interested. Malfoy deserved something public, something loud and obnoxious. He would have to take his time with this prank, it would have to be perfect and well thought out. This was not a place to be rash, it was a place to be calm, cool and collected. After all, revenge was a dish best served cold.

"Malfoy, Scorpious." It was only now that James noticed it was Uncle Nev- er Professor Longbottom that was reading the list. The entire Dining Hall seemed to hold its breath as the sorting hat sat on Malfoy's head.

"What's taking it so long?" James whispered to Fred.

"Maybe he's an enigma." Louis replied. "It took the Hat a long time with me too."

"Yeah, but he should be obvious…"

Louis rolled his eyes.

"SLYTHERIN!" The Sorting Hat eventually shouted. James shot his cousin an "I told you so" look.

"Potter, Albus." Professor Longbottom continued on the list. Apparently there were no Ns or Os this year. Again the dining hall watched with rapt attention as Harry Potter's second son was sorted. James didn't know why they were anxious or why the Hat was taking so long. James had barely sat on the stool when the Hat named him Gryffindor. Maybe it was just losing its edge, James thought. It was an old Hat after all.

Finally the Hat opened its 'mouth' and cried "SLYTHERIN!" There was a large gasp from the room. A Weasley-Potter not in Gryffindor? It was unheard of. Harry Potter's son in Slytherin? It was mind-boggling!

Fred jumped up and shouted, "WHAT?!" James himself was speechless. He was dreaming. That was it. He was having a nightmare. Except he wasn't dreaming, James never dreamt so vividly.

James tried to catch his brother's eye as he walked, head held high, towards the green and silver table, but Albus wouldn't look at him. The Slytherins had gotten over their shock and were cheering. Albus sat next to Malfoy, and James thought he was going to throw up. Potts, Skye was sorted into Ravenclaw next but James was still in a state of shock. He looked down the table of Gryffindors. They were all in a similar state of shock. Louis, Fred and Dominique all looked like they wanted to throw something. Molly was chewing her lip and mouthed _sorry _at James. But the worst was Vic.

Victorie was sitting at the far end of the table, Head Girl badge on her chest, and she looked… pleased! What was wrong with her?! James caught her eye and she looked at him with a look that said, _I pity you, but you'll be just as pleased as me soon. I promise._

Finally "Weasley, Rose" was called to the front. She looked petrified and James didn't blame her. Her best friend, his brother, was just falsely branded as the enemy. Of course she was upset! She looked out among the crowd warily, her eyes resting on the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables, before sitting on the stool.

As the Hat sat on her head James silently prayed to every higher power he could recall, including Dumbledore. _Please, please, have that asinine Hat call out the right house. C'mon Rosy, show that hat who's boss. Tell it that you'll quit and go to Beauxbatons if you don't get Gryffindor. Or at least Ravenclaw… you could be with other know-it-alls in Ravenclaw. Your hair will look so good with a purple tie!_

"SLYTHERIN!" It was official, the Hat was broken.

"I'm dreaming Fred, tell me I'm dreaming." James breathed as he watched, horrified, as Rose, his little Rosy-Posy, sat next to Albus and Malfoy.

"Unless all of us are having the same nightmare… this is reality." Fred replied grimly.

"I'm gonna burn that Hat."

"I heard your Dad already tried when it almost stuck him in Slytherin and it didn't work."

"That's a myth. My Dad's a true Gryffindor, he used the sword remember?'

"Oh yeah."

There wre a few more students sorted an finally the fet began. James' shock was quickly turning into rage. He was imagining all sorts of horrible ways to end Malfoy. He wondered if giant spiders still lived in the Forbidden Forest. Or maybe he wouldturn him into a ferret and feed him to Witherwings, that was its favorite treat after all.

Then there was the issue of Albus and Rose. He could talk to Professor Longbottom and Professor McGonagall. Surely they would understand that they needed to fix the Sorting Hat and re-sort Al and Rose. In fact, they probably hadn't realized it, but maybe all the first years had been sorted wrong! For instance that mealy Finch-Fletchley kid didn't look like a Gryffindor at all. It would take some time, but until then, he could sneak Al and Rose into the Gryffindor common room. They could sleep there. Yeah! None of the Gryffindors would mind, and they'd probably keep it a secret too. And if that didn't work there was always the Come and Go room. They could sleep there. It was a perfect plan. He'd tell them right now!

"I have to talk to Albus." James said, getting up.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, James?" Fred asked.

"What? Is it against the rules to talk to your own family?"

"No, but…"

"Exactly." James felt the stares of his cousins and several other curious onlookers as he made his way to the Slytherin table. People always stared at him and his family though. He used to hate it but now he hardly noticed it. He had actually learned to like it a little bit. But not now, he was plotting with his brother and that demanded privacy.

"Hey, Al, can we talk?"

"Okay." Albus looked happy, the soldier was putting on a good face. He was a real trooper.

"In private? You too Rosy."

"We're not supposed to leave the Hall until after the feast." Malfoy commented.

"If I wanted your opinion I would've asked for it." James said through gritted teeth.

"What did you want to tell us?" Rose asked. She was frowning. She was having a hard time with this, James could tell. He nearly grinned, thinking about how happy she would look when she found out her big cousin was taking care of everything.

"Listen, meet me in corridor after the feast. I'll help you sneak up to the Gryffindor Common room. You can stay there until McGonagall can fix the Hat and resort your year."

"The Hat is broken?" Rose looked confused. The poor thing, she probably thought the Hat had _wanted_ her Slytherin.

"Of course it's broken, why else would you be sitting at this table?"

"Uh, maybe because their Slytherin." The Head Boy, who was a Slytherin, said deadpan.

"Stay out of this private conversation!" James spat before returing his attention to his brother and cousin. "Now if we get caught you two can stay in the Room of Requirement. You know where that is, right? Professor Longbottom's really good at it, so you can ask him to help you out."

"What are you going on about, James?" Albus asked, he looked… annoyed. Well that was rich!

"I'm talking about helping you two out! You're not Slytherins! The Hat got it wrong!"

"I told you this would happen." Malfoy whispered.

"Shut your face before I shut it for you, Malfoy!" James shouted. "Albus are you coming with me or not?"

"Not."

"What?"

"I'm not going with you James. I'm a Slytherin. Nothing's wrong with the Hat. Rose and I are Slytherins."

A great cheer went up from the table. This was not going as planned.

"What do you mean…? You got sorted into Slytherin because the Hat…"

"Because the Hat knows that we're Slytherin." Rose interrupted.

"You two are barmy, what will your parents say?"

Rose blushed but didn't back down. "I don't care what they say. I'm a Slytherin."

James didn't know what to do. He grabbed Al's arm in one hand and Rose's in the other.

"Come on. Your brains have obviously been tampered with."

Malfoy grabbed Rose's wrist. "Let go, Potter." He said coldly.

"Don't touch my cousin, Malfoy."

"Will you two cut it out?" Rose shrieked. They were attracting a crowd now and Professors Longbottom and Peterson (heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively) were walking towards them. Rose forced herself out of James' and Malfoy's grips.

"Go away, James." Albus said, looking his brother right in the eyes.

"Not until you say you're not a real Slytherin."

"I am a Slytherin, James. So is Rose and yeah, so is Scor. Deal with it." Albus replied evenly.

"Oh, so it's Scor, you're on first name basis with the Death Eater? You're a traitor to Potter blood you know that?" James shouted back. Al's eyes flashed angrily and he might've attacked his brother but they were interrupted.

"That's enough boys." Professor Longbottom said behind them.

James moved away from his brother. This was not going well at all. He didn't know what was going on and he didn't like it. He turned his back on his brother and cousin and moved back towards the Gryffindor table. His ears perked up as he heard Al and Rose talk to Malfoy.

"Sorry James is such a git." Rose was saying.

"Never fear, there's one on every family." Malfoy replied. "In my case it was my Grandfather. Though I don't think James is that bad."

"He is." Al replied. "James is every bit as awful as your Granddad was, believe me."

"Alright, so maybe there are a lot of similarities: bad temper, bad hair, horrible to his family members, bigot…"

James' plans for perfect revenge were chucked out the window in a moment. Malfoy needed to die and he needed to die now.

Before he could second guess himself, not that a second guess would have altered his actions, he had thrown Malfoy to the ground and was beating the pulp out of the smaller boy.

Shrieks and yells and expletives echoed throughout the Hall. Despite Malfoy's scrawny build he put up a good fight. Both boys landed blows as they rolled across the Hall floor, under the Slytherin Table.

"Stay away from my family, you Death Eater!" James grunted as he felt Malfoy's nose break under his fist.

"Don't call me a Death Eater, you bigot!" Malfoy shouted back, knocking the wind out of him. They rolled out from under the table and James managed to sit on the first year.

"Death Eater scum!" James roared, punching Malfoy repeatedly.

"Take that back, James." A new voice from behind him said. But James was too far gone to realize who had spoken.

"You're not even worthy of holding a wand in your filthy, Death Eater stained hands!" James taunted.

Suddenly James was clocked on the side of his head. His glasses broke, the glass sliced his skin and he felt his eye swelling up. He was pushed to the ground and looked up at his attacker.

"Take that back, James Sirius." Al said furiously. Albus had attacked him. Al had attacked _him._

"That's quite enough of _that_!" It was Professor Longbottom. He pushed Albus to the side and brought James roughly to his feet. "To the hospital wing with both of you! Peterson, accompany them and make sure they don't speak a word to each other. After Madame Pomfrey has them cleaned up send James to my office, deal with your own students as you see fit."

Professor Peterson gripped both boys' arms and led them out of the room.

"I can walk." James said through a mouthful of blood. But Professor Peterson glared at him so fiercely James kept silent until after Madame Pomfrey sent him away. He had too much to think about anyway.

In the span of a few hours his entire world had come crashing down. Hogwarts was, above all, a place of order, consistency, and learning. The headmistress made sure of this. James had a good life and a wonderful family, but with so many people things could get chaotic very easily. Hogwarts was fun, and if he wanted a ruckus it was very easy to create one, but mostly it was a place free of fear and worry and concern.

At Hogwarts he didn't have to wonder what sort of dangers his Dad faced on his missions. At Hogwarts he didn't have to try to understand the politics of the ministry. At Hogwarts he didn't have to flee from crazed reporters or gawking crowds. At Hogwarts he didn't have to hide his love of reading and learning. At Hogwarts he didn't have to notice the threats from Mum and Dad's enemies that they tried so hard to hide. At Hogwarts he didn't have to worry about his little brother and sister getting into trouble, until now.

James found himself at the door of Professor Longbottom's office. He adjusted his mended, albeit crookedly, glasses, ran a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to collect himself and knocked.

"Enter." Was the reply, so he did. Professor Longbottom was kneeling in front of his fireplace, inside the fireplace were the two people James wanted to see the least and the most: his parents.

"…well I think James should explain the rest to you." Professor Longbottom was saying. He stood up and motioned for James to come closer.

James watched his parents as he approached and knelt before the hearth. It was hard to tell what they were thinking or feeling. James was pretty good at reading people, but his parents were especially difficult cases. He supposed going through a war made a person clam up.

James decided to cut to the chase, Merlin knew when he'd be sent to bed and it was imperative that his parent knew all the facts. Surely they could convince McGonagall that the Sorting Hat was broken.

"Albus and Rose were sorted into Slytherin."

His mother simply sighed her, _James what've you gotten yourself into now?_ sigh, and his father merely raised his eyebrows. Ell this was anticlimactic. It was clear that his father was awaiting further information.

"Obviously the bloody Sorting Hat is broken!"

"Watch your language, James." His mother commented.

"What makes you think the Hat is broken, James?" His father asked simply. Hadn't they been listening?

"Albus and Rose got sorted into Slytherin… the wrong house!"

"James…" His mother began with a sigh, but his father put up a hand to quiet her.

"James I am only going to say this once, so pay attention. The Slytherin House is an honorable house and they have gained a great wizard and witch in your brother and cousin. I couldn't be more proud of them. You will not patronize your brother about this, James, you will treat him and Rose as if they were any other student."

James knew better than to talk back to his father, but tonight was night for defying reason. "Haven't you and Mum been listening? He's hanging out with that Malfoy kid! They're in Slytherin! They're surrounded by Neo-Purists and scum and sneaky gits who will make their lives horrible!" James was screaming at his parents now and still they weren't reacting. "They're living with the enemy! They're going to learn to love and do everything you and Mum and everyone defeated all those years ago! Don't you care about them at all? Don't you still believe in all you fought for?"

"I care deeply about my children and about what I fought for in the War." His Dad replied sharply. "You know that. But you are seeing things through the wrong end of the telescope, James. And your behavior tonight proves that. You need to get your head on straight. Slytherin is not the enemy; hatred and foolish violence, like what you indulged in today, are. Don't think that just because you wear a red tie means that you are better than anyone else. And don't think that just because something is painted green, it is evil. You will respect your brother's house and his friend choices."

James just stared. He thought, of all people, his Dad would understand. But he didn't. The entire world had gone nutters and James was the only sane one left in the world.

"Am I clear, James?" his Dad asked. James could only nod in response. "Good. And don't let me hear anything else on the matter." James nodded again and his father left the fireplace.

"James, honey." His mother said, her voice gentle, "I know this is hard, but you have to accept that people are different. That doesn't mean we love them any less nor does it change how we relate to them. Albus being in Slytherin doesn't change anything. Give it some time and you'll understand."

James looked at his mother. This was even weirder, normally it was Mum who yelled and Dad who talked sense. Now it was Dad talking nonsense in his no-nonsense voice and Mum was coddling him like a baby. He wished he could think of some poignant comeback, something to make them all think and help them see things the right way again, but he was drawing a blank.

"Go to bed now, you must be tired." His mother finished.

James nodded and was about to get up when a thought occurred to him. "Wait, Mum!"

"Yes, James?"

"Uncle Ron, what does Uncle Ron think about all this? Does he know Rose was hanging out with Malfoy, even after his lecture at the station?"

His mum shook her head slightly, like she didn't think he knew what he was talking about, "I'm not sure if Ron knows yet. But I'm sure he'll be proud of Rose and he was joking at the station. Any enmity between Potters and Weasleys and the Malfoy family died with Voldemort."

"I don't think so, Mum. Some things just can't be forgiven." A sudden inspiration came to him. "Sometimes a person, or a group of people, or a _house _commits so many crimes that there's no coming back. Like Lucifer falling from heaven. There's no comeback for…"

"That's enough James." His mother said sharply. "Go to bed and don't let me or your father catch wind of you making any sort of prejudiced remark against anyone or anything again."

"It's not prejudiced if it's true."

"You're just digging your own grave, James. I've half a mind to ban you from Quidditch for the year."

That shocked James. That hurt him. That was inconceivable. "What?"

"I won't. You've had a long day, but I'm warning you that I can and I will. This is serious stuff James. You're accusing innocent people of malicious acts and you're threatening your friendship with your brother and your cousin. You're cold bigotry is shocking and disappointing, I expected better from you."

James knew that his mum was dismissing him so he bid her goodnight and stood up, his legs numb from kneeling. Unfortunately he still had Professor Longbottom to deal with.

For a moment the two Gryffindors just looked at each other, then, "20 points from Gryffindor. And you're to report to the hospital wing to aide Madame Pomfrey for detention. You will help her every afternoon from now until next week. Also report to Professor McGonagall's office tomorrow morning after breakfast. The password for her office is Creevey. Now to bed, the password for your common room is 'integrity'. You would do well to think on its meaning."

* * *

"Albus!" James called, following his brother out of the Dining Hall the next morning.

"You've been avoiding me."

"No I haven't, I've just been busy trying to figure out where things are, y'know?"

"Whatever. I have to talk to you."

"Come to apologize?"

"What for?"

"Very funny, James… wait you're serious? And don't pull any 'I'm James, not Sirius' crap. You're really not going to apologize for what happened last night?"

"I didn't do anything wrong."

"You attacked Scor for no reason!"

"He called me a bigot."

"You _are _a bigot!"

"What's gotten into you, Al? What happened to Canons and Gryffindor forever?"

"What's gotten into _you_? You're acting like more of an arse than normal. Just apologize and we'll put last night behind us."

"Me, apologize? It was that Malfoy kid's fault and _you_, you decked me!"

Albus grinned a little bit, "I did, didn't I? But you deserved that. For insulting and attacking my friend and for saying I wasn't a real Slytherin."

"But- but you're not, Al. The Hat got it wrong!"

Albus shook his head. "You do know you're the only one who's got a problem with this right? Mum and Dad are fine, so are Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron. Vic, Dom, Louis, Fred, Molly, Lily, even Grandma and Granddad, _everyone_ is fine with it!"

"But last night they looked-"

"Last night they were just shocked, I was too to tell the truth, but no one has an issue with this but you. Not even Teddy." He added quietly.

That riled James. "How would you know?"

"He wrote me." Al said holding up a letter. "And do you know what? He knows Scor! He practically grew up with the bloke when he was staying with Aunt Andi! They're cousins, just like how we're cousins with the Dursleys or something!"

"Shut it, that's a lie!"

"Whatever. I've got to get my books and get to class."

"But Al!" Albus whipped around and looked his brother straight in the eye. "You're a real prat, you know that? I can't believe how conceited you are. The entire world disagrees with you, and still you think you're in the right. You know what? I'm glad I'm not in Gryffindor, you're all a bunch of stubborn idiots! At least Slytherins are smart enough to have back-up plans."

"Good thing too, they'll need them with all the stupid mistakes and evil acts they commit."

"'You'll need them,' James, not they. If you're going to insult my house, insult me with the rest of them."

"But you're not like them! You're not like Malfoy! You're not a Slytherin! It's all because of-"

"What, it's the Hat's fault? Or maybe it's Scor's fault? Or maybe we'll blame it on Crookshanks! Admit it James, you're not mad at the Sorting Hat or at Scor or even at the family for being alright with this. You're mad at me. So next time you feel like punching someone, hit the one you're really mad at."

The two brothers stared each other down for a few moments. Then, as breakfast hour ended and a flood of students entered the corridor Al turned away. "Don't talk to me again until you apologize. And it wouldn't hurt to apologize to Rose and Scor too."

"Wait, Al!" But the Slytherin didn't hear him, or at least pretended not to. James looked down at his wristwatch; he was five minutes late for his meeting with Professor McGonagall. His time at Hogwarts was shaping up to be pretty hellish and classes hadn't even begun.

* * *

James waited in the Headmistress' office for Professor McGonagall to arrive. It was a brilliant office really; it looked like a cross between a library and a study. There were books and letters and files and papers everywhere, but everything was organized to a tee.

If James wasn't so scared by Professor McGonagall he would've happily taken a thick volume from a shelf, curled up in her tall wing-back chair and spend the rest of the morning reading. In fact, the idea sounded so good that James decided at that moment to skive off classes today. First day was always the boringness of reading syllabi anyway – nothing was ever taught on the first day of classes. Besides in classes he'd have to deal with people and people didn't make sense, especially lately. Books however always made sense, they talked about facts and theories and made him feel accomplished when he was done. Yes, a day with a large complicated book was very much in order. Maybe he could even get away with nicking one of the Headmistress' books; he had read all of his own already anyway.

James approached the tall bookcases and read the titles. Some were common ones from books James had practically memorized such as _Hogwarts, a History, Apparating for Beginners and Phobics, Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration, Halbird's Solution To Almost Everything _and _Weird Wizarding Dilemmas and Their Solutions. _

Others were the kind of books that James avoided, like, _2/3 of the Golden Trio _by Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger; _Dragons and their Habits _by Charles Weasley, _The Ministry of Magic: An In-Depth Study _by Percival Weasley, _Time Traveling _by Hermione Granger Weasley, _Lies about Lycanthropy_ by William Weasley and Germaine Reeve with a Preface by Harry Potter, _Herbology: The Forgotten Defense Against the Dark Arts _by Neville Longbottom and _Sanity _by Luna Scamander and others written by his many famous relatives.

However, _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes _looked interesting, as did _Tetley's Theories of Defense Against the Dark Arts and their Practical Applications._

As James reached up to take the book he noticed a folded black rag resting atop the shelf. The Sorting Hat! James drew his wand, levitated the hat down and peered inside it.

"Come on you stupid hat! What's wrong with you?" James muttered sticking it with his wand in several places. Running a hand nervously through his hair he was about to put it on top of his head when a voice pierced the silent office.

"The Hat's not broken, James."

James whipped around in surprise then smirked. It was just a painting. He knew several of the portraits rather well as he had visited the Headmistress' office a total of eight times the past year. But this portrait was different. It rested above the Headmistress' chair and it had always been empty on his previous visits. Now it was occupied by a middle aged wizard in long flowing black robes. He had long dark hair that was more than a little greasy and he had beady black eyes and a long hawk-like nose.

"Who are you and how do you know my name?"

"Doesn't everyone know your name?" the portrait drawled.

That was true. "Fine then, who are you?"

"Why do you think the Hat sorted you wrong?"

James sniffed and decided to ignore the portrait's clear evasion of his question. After all, if he was hanging in this office he was probably some Headmaster from ancient days and could probably get him in trouble for trying to nick McGonagall's books. "The Hat didn't sort me wrong. I'm a Gryffindor as I should be. The Hat sorted my brother and cousin wrong, and I think this little first year called Finch-Fletcher or something like that, he's _clearly_ a Hufflepuff."

"Where are your brother and cousin?"

James made a face. "Slytherin."

The portrait raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

James nodded. "It's a disgrace. The only problem is that I'm the only one who thinks so!"

The portrait laughed, a deep throaty laugh, but James could not see the humor in the situation. "It's not funny."

"Oh, no, I'm not laughing at what happened, I'm laughing at _you_."

"Well that's not very nice."

"Perhaps, but you'll have to forgive me." The portrait said somberly. "You may be a perfect physical hybrid of your parents, but your attitude belongs entirely to your Grandfather."

James continued with caution. "What makes you think I'm like Granddad Weasley?"

"No, not Arthur, you're like James Potter. You've even inherited his kleptomaniac tendencies, though I doubt James would ever steal a book. But if the rumors are right, you certainly mimic his habit of beating up defenseless first year Slytherins."

James rolled his eyes. Whoever this portrait was he was glad he was dead, he was a real git, an arrogant git too. If there was one thing that bugged James, it was arrogant people.

James went back to examining the Sorting Hat. The problem was that the Hat was one of a kind so he couldn't compare it to other magical objects. In fact, James realized, he hadn't read anything about the Sorting Hat except for the short blurb in _Hogwarts, A History_. He sighed, folded the hat back up, and returned it to its place on the bookshelf. He would have to do some studying and in-depth questioning of viable sources before reexamining the Hat.

"Out of curiosity," The portrait of the sallow wizard continued. "Which cousin was sorted into my house?"

"You're a Slytherin?" James asked incredulous.

"What, you didn't think that only Gryffindor's were made Headmaster did you?"

No, he didn't really think that, but neither had he imagined a slimy Slytherin running Hogwarts. James looked around at the other portraits. Some were still asleep, others were reading, and the rest were watching his conversation with the nameless ex-Headmaster with rapt attention.

"Who _are_ you?"

The door to the office opened. "Sorry for the delay, Potter." Came the clipped tone of Professor McGonagall. She entered the room and suddenly everything seemed even more in place than it was before. "It's enough of a headache working out class schedules and organizing OWLs and NEWTs without having reporters on my case about the sorting of the latest batch of War Hero offspring."

James waited to sit until after the Headmistress was settled in her wing-back chair. "Now, Potter. I know you've already spoken to Professor Longbottom and your parents but I thought it would be beneficial if I spoke to you as well."

James nodded respectfully. Professor McGonagall was nothing if not intimidating. He tried to listen to her but he was too busy thinking about the man in the portrait. Who _was_ he? James had a sinking feeling that he should know. He ran through the list of Headmasters he could remember. It was definitely not Dumbledore, he was reading by the window. It wasn't Armando Dippet, Newton Scamander or Ambrose Swott. Phineas Nigellus Black was a Slytherin, but he was snoozing in the corner.

"… have I made myself clear, Potter?" Professor McGonagall finished solemnly.

"Er, yes, Professor."

"I should hope so." She sighed. "I really don't know what your father was thinking when he named you James Sirius. Actually I do, but that's beside the point. Try and honor your ancestors' memory by _not _making the same mistakes they did. You have only one brother, James, do not let a difference in houses change anything between the two of you. If you have any doubts about that I suggest a chat with Sirius Black's portrait next time you visit home."

"Yes ma'm." James said. He was, in fact, planning a long conversation with his namesake but doubted it would cover something as boring as brothers.

"Very well, you may go."

"Professor, may I ask a question?"

"Yes, Potter?"

"Who– who's above your chair?"

The Headmistress looked behind her. "Severus, I thought you made it a point to avoid any of my meetings with Weasleys and Potters."

"I did Minerva. But the story surrounding this particular case was far too familiar to miss."

"Wait, Severus Snape?" James asked incredulous.

"Indeed." Snape's portrait drawled. "And if I heard correctly, you have been dismissed."

James nodded, still in shock. He stood, bid the Headmistress goodbye and left. The entire world was mad. Today was most certainly a day for hiding in his bed and reading, even if he had to reread his DADA textbook for the third time.

* * *

Author's Note: No Isabelle in this chapter but now you're thoroughly acquainted with James. In case you didn't get it, James is the arse in the title. I hope you agree with me. And I hope you don't hate him too much, he gets better soon, I swear. In fact the alternative title for chapter 3 is "The Redemption of the Arse-hole part 1" On another note I hoped you liked this loooong chapter. I realized I should have warned you last chapter that this chapter (and probably every other chapter) will be relatively long. Also this will be a long multi-chap, how long I'm not sure but I hope you're in for a loooooooooooooong ride. Anyway thanks for all the great support (reviews, favorites, alerts etc.) keep it up and maybe I'll update quicker! On a third note, no you are not crazy, I did post this chapter once, delete it and have now re-posted it. Why? Because I'm still new at this and the first time around the formatting was so horrendous it would've given Alex a headache (remember to check out Alexiroseni my wonderful beta-er and the Rosipous story: How Scorpious Malfoy conquered the many faces of Rose Weasley! (or something like that) Hopefully another update soon. ~ Gwen


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Okay, just so we're clear, this is the Christmas right after the last chapter. It's the Christmas break of James' 2nd year and he's nearly 13 and Isabelle just turned 12 in November. On another note: this is a personal choice (agree or disagree as you wish), but I see Apparating like driving. We know there are 12 year olds who drive and we know some twelve year olds drive better than even we do. So the moment James Sirius got his wand he wanted to learn to Apparate so he taught himself to apparate (yes he got splinched and grounded several times) and so, at the age of 12, he's pretty competent at apparating.

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc. belongs to Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Bitten **

**Or **

**Redemption of the Arse-hole Part I**

**December 2017**

"Ding dong merrily on high! In heav'n the bells are ringing!"

"Ding Dong merrily the sky! Is rent with angel's singing!"

"Gloooooooooria! Hosanna in excelsis! Gloooooooooria! Hosanna in excelsis!"

I skipped along the pavement singing carols with Damian, my nine-year-old little brother. It was exactly four days until Christmas and the beautiful full moon and everyone's lights cast a glow on the whole neighborhood; magic was very much in the air.

Whew!" I said, pausing in front of the Dursley's house to catch my breath. I pushed my short blonde hair out of my face. "That's enough singing, buddy."

"Please one more!" He begged, "On the first day of Christmas…"

"No, that's enough. We've been singing all night at the Forbes'."

"Look, it's that Potter boy." Damian whispered.

I turned around, he was right. Sitting on the Dursley's porch, twirling a stick around, was James Sirius Potter. We hadn't spoken since I punched him three years ago but it was Christmas and I wasn't really upset with him anymore.

"Happy Christmas, James Sirius Potter." I greeted him.

"Are you nuts?!" Damian whispered a bit too loudly. "They say his whole family is barmy!"

"Whatever." I whispered back.

"Happy Christmas, Isabelle Miranda Cross." James called back. "Nice singing."

I felt myself blush and he grinned crookedly. I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "Thank you. I saw your family earlier but I thought they left. Why weren't you all at the Forbes' Party with the Dursleys?"

"My family did leave. I… uh… well I had a bad row with my brother and I'm staying here for a few days. And I wasn't at the Forbes' because Mum grounded me."

"For rowing with your brother?"

"Naw, for hex- I mean… for beating him up.'

"Why ever did you beat him up?"

"He's, uh, made some daft friend choices. And he's a Slyth- um… he's just being a right git."

Damian tugged at my arm and I decided it was time we went home. "Oh. Well I hope you have a happy Christmas anyway."

"Yeah, you too."

Damian and I continued toward our house when suddenly the quiet winter's night was interrupted with dog's growling. It wasn't so odd, there were several dogs in the neighborhood and they sometimes went ballistic if a critter got into someone's rubbish bin. We continued up to the porch without giving it a second thought.

Suddenly, a large stray came into view across the street in our neighbor's yard. It seemed to be holding some sort of animal from its jaws and was nosing around their rose beds.

"What's that?" Damian asked.

"I don't know." I replied squinting to get a better look. It looked like a large mangy dog (probably with some wolf-blood in it) and it was definitely wild. Every dog on the street was barking its head off. "But I think it might be rabid. Let's go inside."

I opened the door and our Rottweiler, Sammy, streaked out of the house. He attacked the stray, barking loudly.

"No, Sammy!" Damian ran after our dog and I ran after him, calling his name.

Suddenly we were both on our backs in the snow with James Sirius Potter on top of us.

"No. Sudden. Movements." He whispered. "If you want to live, follow my instructions exactly."

This was weird. It was just a stray; okay a huge, mangy, fierce stray but whatever.

He eased himself off of us and then, slowly helped us to our feet. "Now follow me to your house and don't say anything."

I grabbed Damian's hand and obeyed; what the heck? We were getting inside and that was the point. Sammy was a big dog and could take care of himself, right? But one thing was for sure, I was having second thoughts about James' sanity.

Across the street I heard a loud whimper. I looked over my shoulder, Sammy was lying on the ground. Oh my God, the snow was red with blood! I watched in frozen horror as the stray stood up on its hind legs and let out a long, low howl, it's snout raised towards the full moon like some sort of bad horror movie. Except this wasn't a movie, this was real. And it only got worse from there.

Damian wrenched his hand from my grip and ran over to Sammy yelling like a madman.

"No! Damian get back here!" Before I could catch up with him he jumped on the stray, trying to pin it to the ground. The dog/wolf was too strong for him though and it had him on the ground in a second. In another second it was clawing him something awful. I did the only thing I could think of, I tore my boot off my foot and threw it at the dog's head. It turned to me, its yellow eyes glowing maniacally, gore and foam spewing from its mouth, claws red with blood.

I tried to run but slipped on the ice and fell. I felt my ankle crack beneath me and an explosion of pain coursed through my back starting at my tailbone and going all the way up to my eyes, causing tears to flow. The animal closed in on me, its maw was centimeters from my face when I heard James shout something and there was a jet of green light; the dog whined in pain and retreated.

James vaulted over me, fury in his eyes. He was holding a stick, shouting expletives I had never heard before, and advancing on the animal which had now returned to my brother. There was a blast of colored light and the animal froze up.

"I don't think I can move your brother, get your arse over here!" James shouted at me. I had no idea why he wanted me closer to the raging stray but I obeyed blindly. I couldn't quite stand but I managed to half crawl, half stumble the meter to where my brother lay in the blood-soaked snow. I screamed at the sight of him. Damian was unrecognizable, his body was mangled and his face was covered in dark red blood.

"Calm down and hold on to me." James replied standing up. He held my brother's limp form in one arm and held his stick in the other. "Grab onto me, the charm won't hold the werewolf for long." I did as he asked and there was a great crack.

It was the worst few moments of my entire life: my feet left the floor, I felt like my insides were becoming outsides, I held onto James' arm with a death grip and screamed for it to end. With a sudden jolt and a sharp 'pop' sound we were suddenly on solid ground again.

I must have been more scared than I thought and passed out because I was most certainly dreaming. I was in some sort of busy building; there were people in long dressing gowns and flowing robes everywhere and several of them looked strange. One man had blue hair growing from his nose; another was covered in black bruises. One woman was caressing a sobbing baby with orange tentacles. The line of people with strange maladies went on all the way up to a front desk.

"Out of my way. Out of my _way!" _James was shouting at everyone. He was carrying Damian and dragging me through the line and to the front desk. "Don't tell me to wait in line, scaly! I'm James _bloody_ Potter!"

We finally made it to the front of the line where an older man in white scrubs and a tall white witch's hat stood, spectacles on his nose. James dumped Damian on the man's desk, letting him bleed on the all-important looking memos and paperwork.

"It's an emergency." James panted. "Werewolf attack, in a muggle civilian area. These two are muggles and I think she may have been bit too."

The man looked alarmed but kept his cool and spoke into a mouthpiece. "Healers in the lobby. Code Gray. Healers in the lobby, Code Gray. Potter, where are you going?"

He shook me off him and I collapsed on the ground, wincing when my bottom hit the floor, "The ministry of course. I'm was the only wizard within a thousand miles of the site. I'll return with their Dad soon."

Then, with a loud cracking sound, he was gone. I don't mean he left or ran off. He was gone, as in disappeared, whisked away, gone.

"Come along now, dear." A voice said and suddenly I felt myself being lifted off the ground. I wasn't being held though; it was like resting on a soft bed with wheels and moving across the floor, except there was nothing under me.

"What's the boy's name?" The same kind voice asked. I looked over, it was young woman, maybe in her late twenties, in the same uniform as the man at the desk. "The boy you came with, what's his name?"

"D-D-Damian." I managed. "Damian William Cross."

"Very good and you name, please?"

"Isabelle Miranda Cross." Suddenly I felt something beneath me. It was a bed, a hospital bed, so not extremely comfortable but I had a feeling it was clean. Somehow I ended up in a nude on the bed in the blink of an eye. It was a little embarrassing, but my ankle and butt were in so much pain that I didn't really care.

"He's your brother?"

I nodded. The woman, a look of concern on her face, held out a thin, smooth stick and waved it over top of me. "Did it bite you?"

"What?"

"The wolf, did it bite you or claw you or break your skin in any way?"

"N- no. James..., I mean, there was a light, at least I think and…"

Suddenly a young man stuck his head through the door.. "Prewitt, they need you on floor two. It's the boy; he's making his first transformation."

The woman grimaced and waved her stick. Suddenly I was dressed in a clean white smock. "Take over Isabelle." She said rushing out of the room.

The young man, probably in his early twenties, came through the door. He was wearing white scrubs and a tall white witch's hat.

"How are you…" He looked at the foot of my bed. "Isabelle Miranda Cross, werewolf victim? Did you and your brother really come across him in civilian area?" I had no idea what he was talking about and didn't respond, but he didn't seem to really want a response. "Now, now, that was very foolish of you. What are you a third year? You should be able to identify a werewolf by now. Or at least have the sense to call your Mum or Dad. Now what're your injuries?"

"I think my tailbone broke when I fell, and my ankle hurts." I managed though his endless chatter was filing my head with a thick fog of confusion.

He ran his hand gently over my ankle and I winced at the touch. Then he had me roll onto my back and he traced my spine from my neck to my butt.

"Nothing too bad, nothing too bad at all." With a sharp explosion of pain I felt my ankle and spine return to normal.

"Now." The young man continued. "No, moving for at least another five hours, newly healed bones are quite sensitive. I'm Bill by the way. No, not Weasley, unfortunately. I haven't got the ginger hair anyway. Just Bill Henley, the lowly intern."

"Um, okay."

He took out a feather and pad of paper from his pocket and scribbled on it. "Now, you've been through quite the ordeal, so I'm proscribing sleep potion. All right?"

"Okay." I replied, still not knowing what he was talking about.

He pointed his stick at me then muttered to himself as he left the room, "100 pounds even… it should be half dose then."

He returned a moment later with glass of water, which he placed on the nightstand and a curious looking bottle.

"Now, drink this up and you'll sleep until morning. That should give your tailbone time to set properly."

"Wait, what about Damian? Will he be…?"

"Your brother will be alright." Bill said, but his face otherwise. "Now you need your sleep. We can explain any questions you have about lycanthropy in the morning."

I didn't know what he was saying but all the adrenaline had left my system ages ago. I drunk the funny smelling liquid and in a moment was fast asleep.

* * *

I awoke to the sun streaming through my window and had no idea where I was. I looked around for help but I was alone in a small room. Aside from the bed I was lying on there was just a side table with a tall glass of water on it and the door which was half open. Where the hell was I?

I sat up and took a long drink from the glass. As my head cleared scattered memories from the night before came back to me, something about James, a horrible dog, and Damian.

Damian! Where was he? He was in a worse state than I was last night, how could he possibly be alright now?

I leaped out of bed, ran to door but immediately felt dizzy and fell down. The man from last night, Bill, entered the room a smile on his face. I tried sitting up again but had to sit back down.

"Good morning, Isabelle Miranda Cross. You didn't really try to sit up did you?"

I nodded as he helped me back into bed. "You must be the silliest witch I know. The sleep potion has some short term side effects, one of which is dizziness upon waking. Now, would you like some breakfast."

"Um, okay but…"

"Now, tell me, besides the dizziness do you have any other symptoms? Perhaps a fever, upset stomach, itchy throat?" He took out a feather and pad of paper from his pocket and scribbled on it.

"No but…"

"Very good." He folded up the piece of paper, waved his stick over it and I watched wide eyed as it floated out the room. "Now, I will sit you up so…"

"Wait, what happened?"

"Sorry?"

"The paper. Your paper it just… just…"

"Floated out of the room?" A new voice said. A tall blonde man in a nice black suit, starched white shirt and silk green tie entered the room heavily favoring his right leg. Amidst all the chaos over the past 24 hours his suit was surprisingly…comforting. He was dressed like a normal human being. "Really Bill did you not look at the sign on the foot of her bed? It says very clearly: muggle."

"Oh, really?" Bill looked at me intrigued, as if I was some rare bird at the menagerie.

"If she's taken care of, you may leave us."

"She's hungry." Bill replied, still looking at me curiously.

"Please deliver her breakfast by hand. It would be best, for the time being, if you refrained from using your wand in her presence." The man said in a clipped tone.

"Of course, of course. Anything else you need Isabelle?"

"I don't think so." I replied.

"Just remember not to move too much." He said. Then he nodded to the man in the suit and left.

I looked at the man in the suit. His features were angular, but not fierce. If he had wanted to be he could have been very intimidating, but his warm, fatherly smile prevented that.

"Hullo." I said.

"Hullo. I'll be right back." He left and then returned in the blink of an eye, still limping, holding a wooden chair. He sat down and then faced me. "My name is Draco Malfoy, Ms. Cross and I am here to answer any and all of your questions."

"How is Damian?"

"Your brother will be fine for now. Unfortunately from this day onward he shall be cursed with a condition called lycanthropy."

I gulped down tears, I didn't even know what lycanthropy was but it sounded awful. "Will he be okay?"

"He should be. There is no known cure for his condition but there is treatment that will make his life easier. Now your father is a widower, am I right?"

I nodded, knowing what Mr. Malfoy was implying. "Mum died a few years back. Dad works crazy hours so Damian and I take care of ourselves. Mr. Malfoy, whatever Damian needs I'll take care of it. I'll help him anything: physical therapy, a special diet, medicine, whatever. I can do it."

He smiled. "I have no doubt that you can. But there are some things I must explain first, before I can tell you the exact symptoms of your brother's condition."

I nodded.

"Please, Ms. Cross, prepare yourself. The world, as you know it, is about to be shattered."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, reality, as you have come to know it for the past twelve years of your life, holds so much more than you realize."

"Why are you only telling me this now? Is it because of Damian's… condition?"

"Indeed."

I thought this over for a moment. What could he possibly plan to tell me? Something strange, that was for sure. Perhaps it had something to do with the floating paper. It probably had to do with that horrible stray. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and kissed my sanity goodbye. Whatever Mr. Malfoy was about to say, I had a feeling it would leave my mind in shambles.

"Okay. Shoot."

* * *

I sat in a chair in the empty lobby, looking up at the roof, counting cracks and thought and thought and thought. _Magic is real._ _Witches and Wizards are real. They're just like regular people: most good, others bad. They can do magic with their wands._

I remembered the simple tricks Mr. Malfoy had showed me: conjuring up singing birds, cleaning my dirty breakfast dishes, levitating my juice cup, transforming my fork into a nutcracker.

_Witches and Wizards are real._

_Werewolves are real. They're just like regular people: with a brain and will power. But their condition makes them turn into crazy, mindless wolves one night a month at the full moon._

I remembered the horrible animal I saw last night. Inside that monster was a helpless woman (Mr. Malfoy said she was a woman) who couldn't control her actions. Perhaps she was an evil person, after all what had she been doing around my neighborhood the night of the full moon? But Mr. Malfoy said her trial would clear those things up.

_Werewolves are real._

_Damian is now a werewolf. He can take the magic potion though. If he drinks it every 24 hours in the week leading up to the full moon he will keep his human mind. The witches and wizards will help him. So will Dad. So will I._

I looked at the calendar Mr. Malfoy had given me. It was exactly 28 days until the next full moon. In exactly three weeks a wizard doctor – a healer – would show up at our door with the magic potion. Damian would drink the potion and everything would be okay. For the next six days this would repeat. On the day before the full moon Damian would skip school, he would come here, to St. Mungo's in London, to rest. That night he would stay in a special room and sleep as best he could. The next morning the healers would take care of him because he would probably be very tired and have a fever. The afternoon after the full moon Dad would pick him up and take him home. Repeat cycle.

_Damian is a werewolf._

_Damian may or may not be a wizard. It was rare for a non-magical person to be a werewolf but not unheard of. This possibility may or may not be affected by his werewolf status. We would just have to wait and see._

I thought about this one a good long time. It was cool that Bill had fixed my broken bones in a matter of seconds. And Mr. Malfoy's tricks were awesome. But what would it be like if Damian could do all that? Mr. Malfoy said there was a special boarding school young witches and wizards studied at. That would mean he and I would be separated for most the year.

_Damian may or may not be a wizard._

_I am not magical. I am a muggle, so is Dad, we cannot do magic. We should never try to do magic. It probably wouldn't do anything, but it could be a catastrophe._

Dad certainly hadn't liked the sound of that. After Mr. Malfoy told me the basics of the Wizarding World and werewolves, Dad came in and we had a sort of question-answer session. Dad was a research scientist; a biochemist and an inventor really. He loved the unknown and trying things out and conducting experiments. I could tell he was disappointed when they told him he wasn't a wizard.

_Dad and I are muggles._

_So is just about everyone we know and love. We __**cannot**_ _tell anyone about the magical world at all ever in a million years! Not even my husband could know (why they saw fit to tell me this – I'm only 12 after all – was beyond me)! We would carry this secret to the grave._

This one bothered me a bit. I couldn't tell Sophie or Dean or Rachel or Max about this? I couldn't tell Grandma or Granddad about this? How was I supposed to figure all this out without talking about it?

_Dad and I must carry this secret to our graves…_

…_Or their ministry will get us. They have a special Department just to keep their whole world secret and they will wipe our memories and take Damian away if we breathe word of this to a single soul!_

Actually they never said this. But I could tell they were thinking it. The Healer, something Bones, didn't like that we were muggles, I could tell. He thought Damian would be much better off with a magical family, but boy-o-boy would I show him! I was going to take care of Damian and I was going to do a fantastic job of it whether I was a witch or not!

_They don't think I can do it…_

…_And maybe I can't. I hadn't seen Damian yet, would he be different? Would he be scary? I didn't care if he was or not, I would take care of him. I had to make sure he didn't ever turn into a monster like the werewolf from last night. But what if...what if I failed?_

I hadn't been scared of anything in a really long time. The dark stopped bugging me after I spent three hours locked in a pitch black broom closet last year to avoid being caught in the boy's locker room stealing Max Forbes' left trainer (long story). We lived in a nice neighborhood so I didn't fear burglars. Bugs were small enough to squish. Snakes were cool enough to catch and study. Boys were ninnies behind their superior attitudes and bullies were nothing compared to my kicker's foot in the groin. But werewolves were now real. And Damian was one. That would shatter his mind like a fishbowl dropped from the top of Buckingham Palace. He was just starting to act normal since Mum died. He was such a good little kid. What would happen to him if he thought he was a monster?

_Despite all our precautions it's still very possible that Damian could turn into a mindless werewolf. But Mr. Malfoy assured us that even if that did happen, everything would be okay. Since he would spend his nights at St. Mungo's there would be Healers and Aurors on hand. They would keep everyone safe and everything under control._

Mr. Malfoy himself was an auror; he explained that he was like the secret service, the James Bonds, of the Wizarding Community. He said he was a bit of an expert on lycanthropy and the muggle world. So the ministry had sent him to explain things to us.

_Don't worry Isabelle. Everything will be fine. They know what they're doing. And you know what you're doing too; you're being the big sister._

Now I was sitting in this muggle (aka boring) lobby waiting for Dad to finish up some meetings with the Healers and some people from their ministry. Then he would come and get me and I could see Damian and then I'd go home. They said Damian would have to stay at least a week and they were letting Dad stay in Damian's room since he was so little and scared and confused, but I wasn't allowed to stay. I didn't know which neighbor Dad would stick me with, or what he would tell them.

The door opened and I stood up, wanting to see Damian so badly. But it wasn't Dad. It was…

"James Sirius Potter."

"There you are, Isabelle Miranda Cross."

"You were looking at me?"

James ran a hand through his very messy black hair and nodded. "Thought I'd check on you. Make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine. But Damian's not."

James nodded and sat in the chair next to me. "I figured he'd be turned. There was no way all that blood was just from your dog."

"Oh, Sammy! I didn't even think about him! Is he…?"

James looked at me somberly. "Dead. I'm sorry, Isabelle Miranda Cross."

I wiped a tear from my eye. "It's okay. He- he was an old dog anyway and at least Damian and I and you, at least we're all okay. Well not Damian really, but we're all alive."

James nodded he reached into his trouser pocket then wrinkled his brow and huffed.

What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I was… uh, I was going to give you a tissue but I haven't got any."

"That's fine." I said sniffing loudly.

"Where's your Dad?"

"Meetings. We've been in meetings all day but Dad said I didn't have to go to this one so I let Bill lead me down to this lobby but it's just plain boring here and I still haven't seen my brother! I don't even know where he is!"

"No?"

"No."

James stood up. "Come along Isabelle Miranda Cross, I will lead you from this beige room of boringness to your brother!" He got to the door and then stopped. "What do you know about…?"

"About what?"

"About… you know?"

"No, I don't."

James sighed then thought. "Where are you?"

"St. Mungo's it the er… well. What do you know about…?" It was a high possibility that James knew about magic and all that, but maybe he didn't.

"I asked first and they can wipe your memory if we tell the wrong people and I'm in enough trouble as it is!"

"Well they could take Damian away if _I_ tell the wrong person!"

"No they wouldn't."

"How can I even be sure we're thinking of the same 'them'?"

James opened his mouth then closed it. "Fine we'll say it at the same time."

"Alright. On the count of three: one."

Two."

"THREE! Magic exists!"

"I'm a wizard."

Well that explained a lot. We both laughed nervously. James looked relieved and led me out the door. We stopped at the front desk and, while the clerk was busy talking a woman growing ram's horns from her ears, peeked over the desk. Apparently he discovered what he wanted because he grabbed my hand and led me through a maze of corridors. We passed several odd looking people but I tried not to stare.

"Are you really a wizard James Sirius Potter?"

"Yes I am, Isabelle Miranda Cross."

"You can call me Isabelle."

"What about Belle or Iz? I like nicknames."

"Well I don't. Call me Isabelle. What shall I call you?"

"James."

"I thought you liked nicknames."

"For other people, not me. But if you insist, I am James Sirius Potter the Magnificent, whose Powers and Ingenuity and Genius and Courage Surpass that of All his Illustrious Ancestors and all War Heroes, Living and Deceased, Combined including Dumbledore."

"That certainly is a mouthful, hardly a nickname at all. Is that what your friends call you?"

"I have no friends. Just servants and horrible family members."

"That doesn't sound pleasant."

"It's not. I haven't played a decent prank in months."

"How can a door stumble?" I asked as he led me up a flight of stairs.

"I don't know, how can a door stumble?"

"You said it, not me."

James looked at me curiously. "This isn't some sort of riddle is it?"

"No. But at the end of your nickname you said something about living and deceased and stumbling doors."

"Stumbling door? Oh, I said Dumbledore."

"Well then what's a Dumble-store?"

"Dumble-DORE was the greatest wizard who ever existed. That is until my Dad."

I couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but decided not to ask, just in case.

"How do you not know who Dumbledore is, Isabelle?"

"Well I just learned what a wizard was today."

"And they didn't mention Dumbledore?"

"No, they just talked about what wizards are in general. The only important wizard they told me about was your minister, Shaklebott is his name right?"

James nodded and we stopped at a door marked: Highly Dangerous.

I felt tears come to my eyes. My baby brother was highly dangerous.

"Blast it all, Isabelle! Don't cry when I can't do anything about it."

"I'm sorry." I mumbled through my tears. "I can't help it." I stood there, feeling utterly ridiculous, holding James' hand and bawling my eyes out. This went on for several minutes.

There was so much to cry about: the loss of a firm grip on reality, my dead dog, my injured brother, my werewolf brother, no cure for lycanthropy, knowing I was going to take care of him, thinking that I couldn't take care of him…I completely forgot about James until he spoke again.

"If only I had my wand!"

His exclamation shocked me out of my funk. Mr. Malfoy had talked about wands like they were something really special, something a wizard never let out if his sight."What happened to your wand?"

"It was confiscated." James said shortly.

"By who?" I dried my eyes. with the back of my hand.

"The ministry." James sighed. "Dad said I shouldn't worry, something similar happened to him in his fifth year and he got off fine. And that was under _Fudge's_ administration too."

"Wait, so why did they take your wand?"

James remained silent.

"It was because of last night, wasn't it? It was because of Damian and I."

James shook his head. "It was because of that bloody werewolf, no pun intended. Underage wizards aren't supposed to perform a lot of magic. Especially not in front of muggles. I'm not supposed to know how to apparate, much less do it, either. The ministry isn't really mad though, I saved your lives didn't I? It's all protocol, _Priori Incantatem _and all that rot, y'know?"

I didn't really know but I nodded anyway. "I think I'm ready now. Can I go in?"

"He's your brother, I should be asking you."

I cracked open the door and peeked in. The room was similar to the one I slept in last night, small and unfurnished except for the bed and bedside table. Next to the bed there was a rolling waist high cabinet with a counter for a top. There were several bottles and jars scattered on the counter along with several half eaten bars of chocolate.

Damian lay, sleeping more or less peacefully, on the hospital bed. His face was ashen and there were long, fresh scars on his arms and legs.

The woman healer was dozing in a chair next to his bed. She looked exhausted, as though she had spent the night in battle. I tiptoed in, trying not to wake either of them and James followed. We stood over Damian's sleeping form, watching him breathe in and out. Three deep scars marred his perfect, boyish face, starting on his left temple, crossing over his cheek and ending just above his upper lip.

"I feel like he should be hooked up to tubes and wires and stuff." I whispered.

James looked at me funny and I sighed. "It's a muggle thing."

"Oh, okay."

Damian's eyes fluttered open. "Hey buddy." I breathed.

"Isabelle." Damian tried to sit up, then winced and lay back down. "They wouldn't let me see you!"

In a flash the Healer was up and at Damian's side. "Remember what I told you, sudden movements and those wounds could reopen."

"I'm thirsty again, Tasha." Damian said, looking at the Healer starry-eyed.

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you really thirsty or just fishing for more tricks?"

"Yes…" Damian answered slyly.

The Healer sighed again and turned to me. "Your brother is quite the charmer. I'm Natasha Prewitt by the way, but you can call me Tasha." She removed her long, thin wand from her pocket, waved it and there appeared a glass of orange drink in her hand. "Drink up, you need the fluids anyway."

Damian slowly sat up and accepted the drink. "Thanks Tasha."

"What is that anyway?" I asked.

"Pumpkin juice." James answered. I had nearly forgot about him. "Can we get some, Tasha?"

"James Potter." She eyed him with a curious expression. "Is all they say about you true?"

"That I had to battle a troll single-handedly without my wand on top of Big Ben after apparating there on accident? No. I always apparate exactly where I intend in one piece."

"Ah, of course." Tasha waved her wand again and handed James and I drinks. I took a tentative sip, it was delicious, definitely pumpkin-y but also sweet and creamy.

"Isabelle?" A voice said from behind me. It was Dad. "There you are. How'd you get here?"

I turned, he was standing in the doorway with Mr. Malfoy and Healer Bones. I smiled sheepishly, "James showed me the way."

A look I couldn't quite place came over Mr. Malfoy's face, not annoyance really, more like…amusement. "Ah, but of course."

James' face fell into one of practiced indifference and he spoke in a monotone, "Just checking up on Isabelle and Damian."

"Of course, of course." Dad said, he walked up to James and shook his hand. "I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Potter, for all you've done for us."

James' mask cracked a little to show a smile. "It was my pleasure. And thank you for the kind words you sent to the Ministry on my behalf."

"No need to thank me for that, it was the least I could do. They won't really penalize you for saving my children will they?"

"No, not at all, don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

"Good, good. Tell me James, are your parents around? I would love to shake their hands; they really are blessed to have such a brave and talented son."

James' face became indifferent again. "Sorry, no. My parents are fairly busy but I'll make sure you have a way of getting in touch with them. But for now I really should be going."

"Very well, thank you again."

"Again, you're welcome." James replied in perfect diplomat fashion and set his empty juice glass on the table. "Happy Christmas to you all. And I'm sure I'll see you three around."

He said winking at Dad, Damian and me.

As he exited the room Mr. Malfoy said, "Be sure to send my regards to your family."

James' face remained indifferent as he nodded, "I'm sure my family returns your regards." Then he left the room.

That was all? I didn't know James that well but I couldn't have predicted that he was such a… controlled bloke. Or that he would have any reason to be on guard given the present company.

Dad placed a hand on my shoulder. "Isabelle, if you're ready Mr. Malfoy will apparate you home. You can gather your things and stay at the Dursley's."

I nodded. "I'm ready." I hugged Damian gently and promised I'd have a special Christmas waiting for him at home and then hugged Dad. We hadn't had any time for private conversation today and I was regretting that now.

Our eyes met and shared mutual feelings of sadness, fear and determination.

"Everything will be okay, Isabelle." Dad whispered as he released me.

"I know. We'll make everything be okay."

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for all the favorites and follows, but seriously guys, please review. I want to know what you think besides "I want more hence I have added this to my alert list." So I hoped you liked it and I hope your in for some werewolf drama!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc. belongs to Rowling**

**Chapter 4: The Redemption of the Arse-hole Part II**

"That went well." James commented stepping out into the fresh air of the Ministry Atrium. Actually the air could be described as anything _but_ fresh but it was a huge change from the cramped and stinky courtroom.

"Did you thank Mr. Cross and Mr. Malfoy for testifying on your behalf?" his Mother asked.

"Yes." James replied shortly.

"Good." His father replied.

James hoped his mother would drop the subject, he had been civil to some pretty stuffy and horrid people all morning and it was tiring. It hadn't helped that someone had leaked the inquiry to the press and there had been crowds and cameras. Fortunately his parents had a… history with the press and once they arrived the reporters backed off some.

Still James could just imagine the tabloids' headlines: _Like Father like Son like Son: A Study of Delinquency in Potter Men _or worse: _James Sirius Potter: Werewolf Slayer. _He hadn't killed the werewolf, merely incapacitated her. She was still ill however and her trial wouldn't be until after the New Year.

"Ready to go home?" His mother asked, taking her son's hand in her own.

"Merlin, yes." James muttered, watching the flashing cameras and the neon colors of quick quotes quills out of the corner of his eyes.

"I'll see you two tonight." His Dad replied sending his mother a meaningful look. He knew that his Dad probably would have kissed his Mum but there were reporters. If there was one thing his Dad hated it was reporters and he never gave them any type of help.

"See you tonight." His Mum reached down and grabbed James' hand and waved her wand. After a few moments of familiar discomfort James stood on his front porch in Godric's Hollow next to his Mum.

"We're back." His Mum said entering the medium-sized cottage. "Kreacher, is lunch ready?"

_Crack. _The old, but spry, house elf appeared before them, dressed in his usual clean pillowcase-toga and locket. "Welcome back. As it is quite late in the afternoon Master Albus and Miss Lily already ate. However your meals are in the kitchen."

"Thank you, Kreacher." His Mum said, giving her coat and handbag to the servant and went to the kitchen.

James placed his coat into Kreacher's outstretched arms and moved into the sitting room. Taking after his father, James had refused to give the reporters any more than he had to, and hadn't touched his wand since the ministry had returned it that morning. But now, in the privacy of his home, James removed his wand from deep in his robe pocket and took a moment to admire it.

It was an Ollivander and quite long – 17 inches – but sturdy oak with the core of dragon-heartstring. James stroked it's smooth surface and shot colored sparks out of it. He had missed his wand. The ministry had confiscated it for the total of four days .

"They gave it back?" Lily said plopping down on the couch.

"Of course they did, Lily." James replied. "The whole inquiry was just for show, I never did anything wrong."

"No, of course not, James Potter doing something wrong, impossible!" Albus' newly acquired sarcasm came from the hall. He poked his head into the sitting room. "Where's Mum?"

James ignored his brother looked more intently at his wand. Lily looked from one brother to the other and sighed. "She's in the kitchen, Al."

"Thanks, Lil." Al left. "I'm going flying, you can come if you like." The invitation was nice enough, but it sent a clear message: Lily could come but James was not welcome. Lily looked at the doorway then back at James. She sighed heavily and got up. "I'm going upstairs to practice reading Tea Leaves."

Abandoned by both siblings, and no longer hungry, James leaned back onto the couch. James didn't mind being alone though, he and Al had barely spoken three words to each other since September and they had gotten into an easy pattern of ignoring each other. At first he had ignored Al because he was mad then it just became a way to keep peace in the family. Avoiding conflict helped James keep his monstrous temper under lock and key. And with Al's sarcastic streak tempting James to pound something, namely his brother, he needed all the help he could get.

Thank God for Quidditch, James had taken all his anger and frustration and thrown it into the sport. The result: he had gotten first string chaser, replacing a 5th year and had been able to keep his mouth shut around Albus and his new friends.

The arrangement had worked rather nicely until Christmas Hols when constant Quidditch training wasn't an option. Living under the same roof was too much pressure for both of them though and what had began as bickering peaked into an argument laced with some nasty hexes which had ended with James being grounded at the Dursley's and that situation had ended nicely.

"James. Come eat." His mother's voice called out.

"I'm not hungry." James called back.

"Now."

James groaned, pocketed his wand and got up. He stopped just before entering the kitchen; he could hear his mum talking to Al about Quidditch techniques. Al seemed to be under the impression that flying high and fast was the best way to train for his dream position of seeker and his Mum was trying to tell him that agility training was a better plan.

Albus a seeker? The idea was ridiculous; Al was short and quick but not very thin and his denser build slowed him down significantly and that wasn't something practice could help.

"Al, you can't be a seeker, you're too thick and slow." James said, entering the room and taking a seat at the table.

His brother ignored him and James took a ham sandwich from the platter. "Barnes is a bit of an idiot but he's a good Quidditch captain and he said he'd think of me first when Anderson's gone in two years. I figure until then I can be chaser, to get a foot in with the team."

James swallowed his food and said louder "Al, you're the idiot if you think you'd be a good seeker."

"Manners, James." His mother said glancing at him.

James rolled his eyes. "Excuse me, brother. I've got some free Quidditch advice!"

Al shouldered his Nimbus and made for the door. "Well, I'm off. I'll be back in time for dinner."

James threw his sandwich onto his plate. "Al, I have something to tell you! You can't just ignore me!"

Al didn't even look back as he left the house. "Sure I can. It's what we've been doing for the past four months."

James pursed his lips together. "Go out for Keeper, Albus."

"What?"

James hardly noticed his mother get up and leave the kitchen. "Felton's a 7th year and the position will be open next year. You're brawny enough to keep the quaffles out but quick enough to zip around when you need to. Work on gaining weight this coming semester, not losing it; and perfect your accuracy and agility. You do that and you'll beat out any rivals for the position, no matter how old they are. Cause I can tell you right now you're not good enough of a chaser or a seeker to make it in your second year."

Al wiped the look of interest off his face quickly and turned to leave "Whatever."

"Yeah, great comeback bro."

"What is your problem?"

"What's _my_ problem? What's your problem? You're not thin enough to be seeker and your precision and reflexes would go to waste on a chaser! And team-wise it makes sense you train for keeper this year."

Al shook his head. "Not about being keeper, though that's a barmy idea. Where do you get off telling me what to do?"

"It's just advice and it's good advice and you should listen to it because I know more about Quidditch than you do and I'm better at it and I know what you're good at and I'm your brother."

"Well you haven't been acting like it lately!"

"Yeah, well, neither have you!" they were shouting now and James half expected his mother to reenter into the room.

"Well whose fault is that?"

"If you mean it's my fault that every time you look at me it's with contempt and every time you've spoken to me it's been some sort of sarcastic slam against my self-confidence."

Al took a step towards his older brother and got up in his face. "Oh, is that what they're calling it now? I thought you were just being arrogant."

"See what I mean? This would be a hell of alot easier if you would cut me some slack!"

"Cut _you_ some slack? You have no right to slack! Do you have any idea what I've gone through this year?"

"And whose fault is that?"

"Not mine, I was just being myself. But you couldn't get that would you? Everyone loves you just the way you are, you can't imagine what it would be like to be mistreated for no good reason!"

James groaned. This wasn't going how he wanted it to, why did Al bring out the monster in him? Sure things were hard for Al but James doubted Al had to restrain raw fiery anger on a daily basis. "Why do you hate me so much? Can't you just forgive me for being a bumrag?!"

Al backed down. He looked shocked for a moment and then raised his eyebrows. "You want me to forgive you?"

James felt the strongest urge to just say something snarky and leave but he just nodded.

Al's mouth twisted into a scowl. "I can't forgive you if you're not sorry."

"What do you want from me?" James said, trying to keep the whine out of his voice.

"I told you on September 2. Apologize."

James gulped. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being an arse."

"You're forgiven." Al turned on his heel and left and James went back to his sandwich.

Once they were separated James heaved a deep sigh. That had been an awkward, weird exchange. It had changed nothing and everything at once. But he was glad it had happened, and in the privacy of his own home.

* * *

James took a deep breath and approached the Slytherin table keenly aware that Professor Longbottom, the Head Boy and the majority of the student body were watching him. If apologizing to Al had been difficult and awkward he could only imagine how it would go with Rose.

Her unpredictable personality and short temper were frightening enough, but the fact that, for one reason or another, the clan had decided that Rose was the relative that needed the most protection, made this whole situation much more dangerous. If he got on Rose's bad side his family would bury him alive and dance on his grave. He was NOT exaggerating!

Al caught his eye and gave him a thumbs up as he exited the hall. Things were nearly back to normal between them but James was still upset that Al had insisted that James apologize to Rose right now this very second. Especially as she was sitting next to Malfoy.

"Um, Rose. Uh, good morning."

Rose turned in her seat to look at him, the look in her eyes could only be called fiery. "James, what is wrong with Al?"

"Um... what?" Rose sighed and pulled him onto the bench.

"Um, Rosy, I don't think..."

"Shut up and listen. Al, Scor and I are all training together for Quidditch tryouts next year. Me for Chaser, Al for seeker and Scor has been keeping for us since he's not sure what position he should play. Now Al says he wants to keep but that leaves Scor with..."

"What?!"

"I know, exactly. Al's totally gone bananas! And I was wondering if you..."

"Rose, he's really serious about keeping?"

"Yes. And since you two are chummy again..."

"This is brilliant!"

"Brilliant how? James, he's been seeking all year and..."

"No, Rosy, listen." James quickly explained the logic behind Al going out for Keeper without mentioning that the idea was his own.

Rose looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. "I guess I see what you mean but..."

"What about me, Potter?" A new voice asked hesitantly. It was Malfoy. He was sitting on the other side of Rose and had been listening attentively the whole time, despite James' pointed indifference to his presence.

"What about you, Malfoy?" James had promised Al he would be civil to the git but that didn't mean he had to be overly welcoming.

"What position should I go out for?"

James raised his eyebrows. "You really want my opinion on that?"

"Why not? It's not like I have to do what you say. And besides, you seem to know what you're talking about."

James shrugged and then looked the first year up and down. No two ways about it Scorpius Malfoy was a shrimp. He was small and rail thin and his arms and legs were far too long for his torso. James closed his eyes and thought about any moments he had seen Malfoy moving. Since he didn't hang around Malfoy much it was difficult but after thinking hard enough he was able to get a semi-good idea of his physical strengths and weaknesses.

"Go out for Seeker." He finally said. "You're small and quick and light and have good reflexes. Work on your reflexes this semester, also your agility and accuracy. Everyone always think seekers should go high and fast but that's not it at all. Also work on sight skills, you know spotting things from a distance. Try and become really, really observant. Got it?"

Rose bit her lip. "I don't know James. Anderson is only a 5th year and he's a great seeker. Barnes wouldn't kick him off for an amateur. Maybe he should train for chaser..."

"That's about the worst thing you can do. Chasers need to be focused on everything around them: the quaffle, their fellow chasers, the opposing chasers, the keeper. Seekers need to be focused only on the snitch. If you mix chaser and seeker you get a messed up player. Unless the player was really, really good and experienced in the first place."

"Thanks." Malfoy said.

"Don't mention it." James replied.

Their eyes locked. James didn't hand out Quidditch advice willy-nilly. He especially didn't give it to a potential opponent. But this wasn't an act of generosity, it was an act of repentance. James inclined his head, ever so slightly and Malfoy nodded, barely moving his head. The hate between them dissolved, leaving nothing but a vague recognition of the other's existence due to mutual friends. And this was exactly the way James wanted it.

"What about me, James? What about me?" Rose asked, breaking the tension of the moment.

"Chaser, Rose. You're a natural, there's really nothing I can advise you on."

She grinned. "Thanks, James."

"You're welcome. Listen, I just wanted to say, uh."

"No worries. I understand, I forgive you, it's over."

"Really?"

"Completely."

"Good." And for the first time since 2nd year begun, James felt capable of breathing easily.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay friends. Three main reasons: 1) Wednesdays are killers and I prepare for them by sleeping more in Tuesdays 2) Went to the library and got reacquainted with the Marauders. Gosh I love Rowling so much! 3) Hannah and Neville have been crashing about in my head for the past 4 days and won't leave me alone! There are countless non-main reasons too.

On another note, "bumrag" was a tribute to the-flying-purple-people-eater for teaching me a new insult. Is it weird that I kind of collect those?

So reviews are like a FREAKIN PERFECT percabeth reunion in MoA (thanks Uncle Rick)! Or (for non-Percy Jackson fans) Hinny - my almost OTP.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc. belongs to Rowling!**

**Chapter 5: Monster**

"Would you like some tea?" Healer Bones said, pushing a mug decorated with lightning bolts towards me.

I hesitantly put my hands around it, letting it's warmth flood my systems. "What kind of tea?"

"Wake-Me-Up Lemon Zinger." Was his indifferent reply.

I wrinkled my nose. "Laced with Pepper Up Potion?"

He nodded absentmindedly passing mugs to my Father and Tasha. "This one's Calming Herbal." Bones continued, passing Damian a mug with some sort of feathered horse thing in it.

"No thanks." I pushed the magical tea away. I probably should have swallowed my pride and drank it, I was tired. I had been up and busy since five this morning working to convince the people in this room to let me into St. Mugo's and now that I was here I was planning on pulling an all-nighter.

"Suit yourself." Healer Bones answered. He was an older wizard, meaning anywhere between fifty and a hundred-fifty. He was tall, extremely fit with defined features, clean shaven, perfectly groomed hair beneath his wizard's hat and an ever serious expression. That is to say he was the complete opposite of Dad.

Dad wasn't short and fat, but he was average height and could stand to lose a few pounds. His face was round and his eyes always a merry chocolate brown, like my own. His yellow-blonde hair was too long and messy, but not an attractive messy at all. Dad was also young, only 33, but he had passed as a college student last year in order to get into a science lecture that he wanted to hear.

"Are you sure, Isabelle?" Tasha Prewitt asked. "You look like you could use a pick-me-up."

I shake my head and she doesn't press. I'm an all or nothing kind of girl. I'm not a witch, I won't use magic more than absolutely necessary. I think Tasha gets that. She was the one who helped me convince Dad that I should be able to come for the nights of the full moon. I liked talking to Tasha. She comes every morning in the week preceding the full moon to deliver Damian's potions. She always sticks around after and talks to Dad and I. Some days she's still chatting with Dad when the bus comes to pick us up for school.

"What happens now?" I ask as the others sip their tea.

"It's still an hour until sundown." Tasha said. "In about fifteen minutes we'll go to Damian's room and get him set up." She glances at Damian but he keeps his eyes trained on the floor.

This was the number one reason I was here. At first I had a sitter who came over these nights while Dad stayed overnight with Damian at St. Mungo's but after a couple months I had noticed some drastic changes in my little brother's behavior. He got really quiet and withdrawn. He'd dropped football. His grades slipped until he was nearly failing every class. He was peckish at meals and lost weight and now looks more like a scarecrow than a boy.

I had brought all up earlier today. First to Tasha, softening her up with my gingerbread (her favorite), then to my Dad accompanied by my butterscotch pudding, and then finally to Healer Bones when we arrived a few moments ago. I had no idea if he even liked food so I had just brought my prize-winning chocolate fudge. I actually don't like baking that much but I'm pretty good at it and sometimes food is the more compelling than a well thought out argument.

"Ready son?" Dad asked.

Damian downed the rest of his tea, nodded and stood. I tried to catch his eye but he looked away. See? Damian and I have _always _been close despite the three year age gap and now he barely talks to me and won't tell me what's wrong!

I followed the others out of the break room, down the hall and up some stairs. The hall was lined with doors, the one closest to us had Damian's name on it. I watched him inhale deeply, square his shoulders and push open the door.

The room was square with no windows or other door and a glowing orb on te ceiling lit the room. The walls were a boring hospital white adorned with a couple cabinets and there was a bed in the corner complete with lots of thick blankets and fluffy pillows.

"It's... nice." I managed to whisper into the silence. Was it just me, or did Bones smirk at me? Well it wasn't _my _fault that I was imagining that Damian was spending his nights in a dank and tiny cell.

Dad and he sat on the bed and they chatted, or rather Dad chatted and Damian nodded and grunted every now and again. Healer Bones took a few vials from the cupboards along with some chocolate. Everything was very organized and to the point.

"Come with me." Tasha said exiting the room.

I followed her. "Where are we going?"

"Damian gets pretty hungry these nights." She said leading me to the end of the hallway.

As we walked down the hall I saw Healers walking about, everyone looking a bit flustered and taking special care to keep every door closed at all times.

"This is the lycanthropy ward." Tasha explained. "We've got about two dozen patients spanning all of Britain. We keep the doors closed to protect their identities."

"I thought Wizards and Witches knew about werewolves."

"We do, but there's still prejudice."

"Oh." We approached a crowd of healers centering around a young man with a cart carrying tea, bowls and plastic containers.

"Isabelle Miranda Cross."

"Oh, hello, Bill." He was manning the cart, handing out mugs marked "Pepper-Up" and "Calming."

"Here for your brother?"

I nodded.

"Well is it chicken or beef today?"

"What?"

Tasha took two containers off the top of the cart. "Bill here is delivering meat to the patients. Since their bodies are wolves tonight they'll want fresh meat so we provide them with normal, clean, healthy, raw, choices. Do me a favor and take an empty bowl from the bottom for me."

I obeyed, letting this information sink in. "What's the bowl for?"

"Water. Thanks Bill, we all already had our tea."

"See you." Bill replied as we walked off.

I think Tasha noticed my grimace because she sighed and patted my shoulder, "I know, the tiniest bit barbaric but this is the only way they can eat and drink when they're transformed."

"Okay."

"Hey, how are you holding up?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know this is hard on you, Isabelle. It was very hard for your Dad the night of Damian's first transformation."

"I'll be fine. I'm just worried about Damian."

"I know. But you have to understand, changes are expected."

That got me mad. "Expected perhaps, but not accepted."

"Things will get better, Isabelle. I promise."

"I know they will. I intend to make sure they get better. He's been a werewolf for five months now, and it's high time I took more responsibility for him."

We reentered the room and Bones was gone. I guess he had other things to tend to. Tasha placed the containers of raw chicken on the floor and opened them up. Then she filled the bowl with water from her wand and stood up.

"Do you have everything you need, Damian?"

He nodded, looking at his lap.

"Good. I'll be here first thing after sunrise." Tasha said, making her way to the door. That's strange, I thought she would stay all night with us.

"Come an hour after sunrise." Damian said firmly. It was the longest sentence I'd heard him speak since his first complete transformation in January.

"Damian..." Dad began.

"Please. One hour after I'm normal again. Just to be safe." He still wasn't looking at us.

"Half an hour." Tasha replied. "And that's final. You have five minutes Robert." He last words were to my father.

Dad looked upset but nodded. He hugged Damian but my brother didn't hug back. "I love you. I'll see you in the morning."

Wait, what? 'see you in the morning'?! Something was _very _wrong.

Dad stood up and took my hand in his. "Say goodnight, Isabelle."

"What's going on Dad?" Dad's eyes looked sadder than when he had told us about Mom's car accident.

"Come on." He basically dragged me from the room. Tasha was waiting for us in the hallway.

"Wait, what's going on?" I nearly shouted as Tasha shut the door. "We have to stay with him!"

"We can't." Tasha said shortly, her voice taunt. "It's not allowed."

"What?" I followed them out of the hall and down the stairs back to the break room. "You mean he spends the whole night there, _alone_?!"

"It's protocol, Isabelle." Tasha said. "I'm sorry, but I could lose my job and your Dad could get in a lot of trouble if we break these rules. And it _is _dangerous. There are already exceptions being made for Damian because he's so young."

I followed them to the break room, arguing the whole way. "Exceptions like what?!" As far as I could tell the only thing Damian was getting was a night of terror all by himself.

"We're allowed to be here." Dad said quietly. "And Tasha comes with the potions when we need them. Also Healer Bones is Head of the Department of Lycanthropy. We're very lucky that he spends so much time on us."

"Healer Bones is a prick!"

"Isabelle..." Dad began but Tasha interrupted.

"We're doing what we can to make things better for him. But it's wizarding law that when a werewolf is in his transformed state he _must _be secluded and secured."

"Secured?" I almost didn't want to know.

"Aurors and Healers will patrol the halls all night. They'll make sure no one enters or exits the rooms and will be on hand if something goes wrong." Tasha looked at my Dad, as if to ask him whether she should proceed. Dad must have assented through his eyes because she continued, "Also five minutes before sundown the doors will be charmed shut. Even if they wanted to, no one will be able to come in or out."

This was too much. I sat down and tried to process everything. "So let me get this straight. Every month Damian has to drink this awful stuff that makes him feel like horse-shit everyday for a week, then he skips a day of school so he can lie in bed with awful headaches and muscle pains, then he spends a night as a ravenous wolf, alone, locked in a hospital room while wizards patrol outdoors as if he's some kind of monster, then he skips the next day of school so he can get over his inevitable fever and stomach issues. How is this healthy?"

"It's not, Isabelle. It's a disease." Dad said, exasperated. "I hate it all just as much as you. They're working on a cure but for now this is the best we can do."

I amended my anger immediately. He was right, it _was _the best he could do, but maybe I could do better. I took a deep breath. "I guess you're right. Can I go to the bathroom?"

Tasha nodded. "Third door on the right."

I checked the clock on the wall, ten minutes until sundown, and left. I stood outside the break room for a moment to plan. And who said pranking didn't form life skills? I pulled a long rubber band from my jeans pocket and attached it to the handrail that lined every wall of the hospital, then I looped the other end around the doorknob. That should keep Dad and Tasha occupied for a little while.

Next to get past those aurors. I tiptoed quietly back up to the lycanthropy ward. Tasha hadn't been exaggerating, there were half a dozen healers in the hallway along with twice as many fierce looking wizards and witches in imposing black double breasted robes.

I creeped towards Damian's door and was about to open it when I was spotted by an auror. Curses! Now what do I do, what do I say?!

The wizard was wearing his wizard's hat low so I couldn't see his face which just made him more intimidating. Wand held out he approached me, favoring his right leg a bit.

"Isabelle Miranda Cross?"

"Mr. Malfoy?" I breathed. It really was him.

"Something wrong, Malfoy?" A dark haired wizard who looked slightly familiar called out.

"Everything's fine." Mr. Malfoy called back. "Isabelle..."

"Please don't tell anyone you saw me! Just turn around and let me see my brother."

"Isabelle the charms are on automatic activation. The doors will all lock in a matter of minutes. You must leave now. I'm sorry you can't see your brother, I'll take you to your Father."

"I can go by myself." I replied dejectedly, backing away from the door.

"I'll come with you..." He began.

"Oi, Malfoy. I need you over here, there's a hole in this charm."

"Be right there, Potter." He called over his shoulder. "Leave now, Isabelle."

He turned away. In a flash I silently opened the door to my brother's room and closed it behind me. The lights had been turned down low and my eyes hadn't adjusted yet.

"Isabelle?"

"Damian?"

"What are you doing here, get out! You only have a few minutes!"

"I'm not leaving, Damian."

"W-what?"

"I'm not leaving you alone."

Suddenly I was knocked to the floor in a rough hug.

"Oi. What's going on?" I managed to sit up and Damian curled up in my lap, his head pressed against my chest.

"Isabelle, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I wrapped my arms around my baby brother. He had stripped down to just loose pajama shorts, revealing scars along his legs, arms, back and chest. I wasn't sure if all those scars were from December. God, he was shaking so bad. "What are you sorry for, buddy? You haven't done anything wrong."

Tears began to stream down his face. "It's not something I've done. It's what I'm doing. I'm making you stay Isabelle. And I want you to stay so badly. But you can't."

"I don't care what the ministry..."

"It's not the stupid ministry! It's me." He looked up at me, his eyes dark with fear. "It's me. I'm a monster. I'm a monster. I'm a monster." He kept repeating that over and over again.

"Sh. Sh." I gently rubbed his back and rocked us back and forth. "I'm here. I won't leave you. I _want _to be here."

Damian sniffed loudly and then whispered, as though he was ashamed. "Don't leave me here alone."

"I promise you, I won't leave you. I'm, never letting go of you, never ever. "

There was a buzzing noise, I looked behind me. The door had taken on a purple sheen.

Damian sniffed. "That's the doors locking. The sun is going down."

"Hush, hush, just close your eyes. You're gonna be okay."

After a few minutes he stiffened. "It's starting." He whispered, his voice tight with pain.

He tried slipping from my grasp but I held him tightly. I hoped I was helping, God, I hoped I was doing what was best for him.

Damian's breathing became labored and soon he was groaning something awful and I bit my lip to keep from crying out along with him. His back arched and he cried out in pain. Then I watched in horrified sorrow as my brother transformed.

The teeth came first, long yellowed fangs. Then his whole face morphed to match them, his nose grew into a snout and his eyes retreated into his skull. Next fur started sprouting under my hands: thick, scraggly, gray fur. His spine curved and his ribs became even more pronounced than normal. I felt his feet form into large paws against my legs and his hands curled into claws. The whole time his blue eyes were filled with fear and pain. Progressively his high-pitched boyish moans and shrieks of pain became deeper, more canine, until he was howling and whining and barking like a wolf.

At the last moment Damian pressed his shoulder against my chest and threw himself away from me. He fell limp on the floor and banged his newly grown tail on the hard floor.

"Damian!" I called, moving toward him.

He looked up and he wasn't Damian anymore. His eyes were a bloodshot yellow. They were the same as that full blown werewolf at Christmas. A deep growl erupted from him as he got to his paws, staring me down the whole time.

"D-Damian?"

Almost as quickly as Damian had left, he reappeared. He gave his head a great shake and his eyes returned to their normal deep blue.

"Is that you?"

He stretched, wagged his tail and nodded. Well it was more of a heavy shake of his head, up then down, but I got the point.

"What, what was that?"

His eyes looked apologetic and ashamed.

"Hey no worries. I'm fine, you're fine... does it always take your meds a moment to, er, kick in?"

He nodded again. Even though werewolves are anything but cute, his blue eyes and small size made him more attractive than he was just a moment earlier. He walked in a circle three times and then collapsed.

I rushed over to him and gathered him into my arms. "Hush, hush. We only have to wait until sunrise. You're gonna be fine. We'll both be okay."

Damian whimpered and buried himself into my chest. It felt weird holding a whimpering, mangy wolf the size of a Great Dane on my lap, but we managed. It was cold in the room and I grabbed the comforter off the bed and wrapped it around Damian and I.

He looked up and our eyes met. He was saying a million things at once: _I'm scared, don't leave me, I'm sorry, thank you, there are so many things wrong, I need you, I can't sleep._

"Hey, buddy. Tasha said you might get hungry. Why don't you have some chicken?"

He shook his head. _I'm not hungry._

I shoved him off my lap. "Damian William Cross. You've barely eaten a week's worth of food since January. Go over and eat the meal that Tasha and I so kindly got for you. Yes, you do have to! Eat!"

Damian trotted over to the bowl of raw chicken and dug in. He just picked at first but soon was digging in. He splashed his muzzle into the water bowl and began to drink, thirstily.

"Damian! Please, use manners." I reprimanded.

He shot me a look that said, _Seriously?_

"Just because you can't use a fork and knife does _not _mean you have permission to pig out. I expect you to eat as politely as possible."

He sighed and returned to his food, this time taking a little more care to keep the food and drink in the bowls and off the floor. Once he had licked the food bowls clean and lapped up about half the water, he looked at me with a tired expression.

"Sleepy?"

He sighed and nodded.

I gathered up the comforter, climbed onto the bed and patted the spot next to me. He jumped up next to me, nearly squashing me as he chased his tail three times and then laid down. He looked at me with a sad expression, _It's no use. I can't fall asleep._

"We'll see about that!" I replied. I arranged one pillow behind my back and I leaned up against the wall with my legs dangling off the side of the bed. I put the other pillow on my lap and had Damian put his head there. Then I cleverly placed the blanket so it covered both of us, but left his head free.

I started to stroke his head and his tail began to wag. "Want a story?"

He nodded.

"Once upon a time..." I paused. I certainly could _not _tell him Little Red Riding Hood or the Three Little Pigs. Besides he had graduated from fairytales. "There was a boy who decided he didn't want to grow up."

He looked at me as though asking _Really? I know this one by heart._

"Just wait, you never heard about the time Peter Pan accidentally murdered a mermaid and the mermaid queen wanted to take revenge!" He settled back onto my lap and made funny canine noises while I told him stories, stroking his coarse fur the whole time, until we both fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N: Hey all. The rating bump up was because I thought that T = 16+ and this certainly is more innocent than that. But then Alex pointed out T was 13+ and since I have some swearing I amped it up just to be safe, y'know? Anyway, I big thanks to Alex for beta-ing and inspiring me. Thanks to her theses next few chapters won't be as filler-y as I thought they were going to be.**

**Please review! Thanks to cc4s for ALWAYS reviewing (Red... seriously you have no excuse for not being among the every chapter reviewers). Here's an incentive to review: tell me your fav HP book in the review and I'll tell you what mine is! Thanks for keeping up with me!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all that are Rowlings (and the universe is better for it)**

**Chapter 6: Letter One **

"Why does everyone have an opinion about this but me?" James asked no one in particular.

"You know this would all be solved if you just took all the same classes I'm taking, Cuz." Fred commented from his place lounging on a sofa and going through his collection of Chocolate Frog Cards.

"Care of Magical Creatures, really James?" Louis asked exasperatedly.

"Hey, I like Hagrid."

"Switch out that one for Astronomy." Fred groaned. "Otherwise we only have the core classes together."

"Wait, he's not taking Astronomy but he is taking Arithmancy?!" Molly nearly yelled. "James, you've been helping _me _out with my Arithmancy homework this year. You don't need to take it."

"Well, I'm taking Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures, so, I really have all my classes picked out for third year." James said annoyed. He was sitting in the corner of the Gryffindor Common room that had been designated, 'The Weasley Corner' sometime last year. He was rifling through letters from his parents, Teddy, his sister and a couple aunts and uncles and trying to ignore the squabbling of Molly, Louis and Fred.

"But you still have an open slot, take Astronomy and then drop Arithmancy for Ancient Runes." Molly pressed.

"Honestly, Moll. Give it a rest, who takes Ancient Runes anyway?" Louis questioned.

"People who want to get into the ministry."

Fred snorted. "Well that's none of us. Louis, James, Albus, Rose and I are going to lead the Chudley Cannons to the World Cup."

"I'm going to write Dad, I think we need more opinions here." Molly said.

James panicked. "No, no. Molly, I don't need another opinion."

"Especially not Uncle Percy's." Louis murmured.

"What do you plan on doing in that open slot, James?" Fred asked.

"I don't know, nap, laze around..."

"Or study." Molly said testily. "Merlin, James, what are all these letters?"

"That one's from Mum, Dad and Lily. Lily wants me to take Divination, Mum says to take whatever I want and Dad says that Trelawney's batshit crazy but a real seer so not _all _her stuff in a bunch of codswallop. And that one's from Ted, he said Ancient Runes was a waste of time. And Aunt Hermione, who's taken every class in existence basically wrote me a book on the pros and cons of each one, along with the credentials of every professor."

Louis looked warily at James. "James, I don't care what you take, but please don't leave yourself an open slot."

"Why not?"

"You wreak enough havoc with the free time you have now."

Molly shifted her position on the floor. "James, it's your life, do what you want. And Louis don't overreact, James will have too much work to do if he wants to keep his grades as good as they are."

Louis looked at James with shock. "You get good grades?"

"Molly, shut up. Louis my grades are nothing to talk about. They're, you know, just grades."

"His grades are awful, I'm sure of it." Fred commented from his horizontal position. "He comes to class and sleeps. I never see him work. I'm not even sure if he even hands in the assignments."

Molly's eyebrows shot up. "Then how do you get all those O-"

"... awfully average grades?" James interrupted. "You know, I bribe the teachers into passing me. And I really do think I'll just leave that slot open, the only other options are Divination, blech - sorry Lily - and Muggle Studies."

"Hello, all." Dominique said, approaching them. "James, this is for you, from Al and Rose."

She handed James a note: _James, make sure you DON'T take Divination, Lily doesn't need any more encouragement to think that that subject has ANY value. Also, take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, otherwise your brain will rot from lack of challenge. - Albus. PS [from Rose]: I hear Astronomy is very interesting, but Trelawney seems a bit daft. I suggest going heavy on the more complex subjects. After our Quidditch careers end it will be good if we have a strong foundation to go into Magical Law or something like that._

James sighed. There really were too many people in his family. "Thanks, Dom. How did you get this by the way?"

Dominique sat down on the sofa, on top of Fred's legs causing him to swear under his breath, "They gave it to Michael and he gave it to me."

"Who's Michael?" Louis asked suspiciously.

"Her boyfriend." Molly replied absentmindedly. "Now, Dom help me convince this loser that he should take Astrology."

"Michael who? Michael wasn't the name of that Hufflepuff wanker. I don't think there are any Michael's at the school!"

"There's Micahel Hanes."

"Yeah, but he's Head Boy and..." Louis began, but stopped when he saw his sister blushing. "You're dating the Head Boy?! The Slytherin Head Boy?! What happened to the Hufflepuff?"

"Dennis," Dominique replied shortly, "and I broke up before Christmas. Really if you're going to put on the overprotective _younger _brother act, at least keep up."

"Which is so very hard to do..." Fred commented as Dominique hit him over the head.

"So do I need to hex this Hufflepuff for breaking your heart?" Louis asked, clutching his wand.

"No. And James, take whatever classes you want, but I don't think you should leave a slot open. Take Divination, it can be interesting at times, especially if you get Firenze."

Molly sighed. "I have to agree with Dom, even though I still think it's rubbish you're taking Arithmancy. And Louis calm down, Dom broke up with Dennis, not the other way around."

"Why? Did he hurt you? Was he a cheater? Should I hex his no good, sorry-"

Dom rolled her eyes. "No, no and no. Things just weren't working out. And I'm glad I left him, he turned out to be a git once I wasn't with him."

"Yeah" Molly commented. "What kind of creep hits on his ex's sister in a prefect's meeting?"

"WHAT?!" Louis exclaimed. "Dennis the Hufflepuff is dead."

This got James' attention. "Wait, isn't Vic with Teddy?"

"Yeah, Dennis is a git." Dom said indifferently.

"Fred, get up, a murder's in order. Teddy's not here to protect his girl, so it's up to us."

"What's this about Teddy?" Victorie said coming over and sitting on the floor.

Molly shot James a death glare. "Oh, nothing, I'm just, erm, excited that he's coming to my house first week of summer hols."

Vic raised her eyebrows. "I was under the impression first week of summer holidays were exams at Auror training."

Crap. "Um, they are. So he's staying with us to make, er, traveling easier."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense, I heard he was staying with Andromeda for the peace and quiet."

"Maybe he is. You know, I'm not sure about his summer plans. I just kind of assumed, you know...OW! Merlin, what the HECK?!" The last bit was because James was hit in the head with a very senile looking owl.

"Another letter, maybe it's from Dad." Molly looked pleased.

James grabbed the owl to keep it from flying off and tore the letter off it's leg with his teeth. "Probably not, it's definitely one of those crappy Post Office Owls. It didn't even know to come at breakfast, just flew through the open window."

"Well, who's sending you a letter from the Post Office?" Fed questioned.

"Dunno." James released the owl and it hooted, flew into the wall and then out the window again. The letter was nondescript and as simply addressed to _James Sirius Potter, Hogwarts. _

James opened it and scanned the page to the bottom to see who it was from.

"Merlin's pants." James whispered.

"Who's it from?" Louis asked.

James couldn't believe his eyes. He looked up at the collection of his family. "No one. Well, not no one, obviously, but no one you know. It's not important, I'll be back later." With that James rose, and ran to his dormitory to read in peace and hoped that Fred and Louis wouldn't follow him.

_James Sirius Potter,_

_I realize this letter may come as a shock but I had to write you. You see, I'm in a bit of a pickle and you're the only one I know who's been in a similar situation. You see, I broke the Wizarding Laws and now I have your Ministry after me. I was with Damian one full moon. He was, of course, under the protection of Wolfsbane Potion, but it's still illegal for anyone to be near him. But I couldn't leave him his own. I'm sure, as a big brother you understand. Please write me back with any advice you may have. I'm really scared and I haven't been scared of anything in years so this is very disconcerting. Thanks in advance, and if you're too busy to respond I understand. _

_- Isabelle Miranda Cross_

_P.S. No, I still don't know what Quidditch is._

_P.P.S. Please keep this to yourself._

James bit back a laugh even though this was no laughing matter. Isabelle and Damian needed him and they needed him to take this seriously. James sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair before dipping his quill in ink. He began to write then paused. _Dear Isabelle _sounded weird, but how else could you head a letter without sounding like a loon? After a moments thought he decided to mimic her: _Isabelle Miranda Cross. _It looked nice, distantly friendly. And that's what they were, right? Distant friends...as opposed to close friends.

_Isabelle Miranda Cross,_

_First, make sure you have lots of good, upstanding people backing you up. Your Dad (of course), any Healers who might understand, Mr. Malfoy, who's a bit of an expert on Lycanthropy, and anyone else you can think of who might help you out. _

_Second, stick to the truth. They know __**what **__you did, they want to know __**why **__you did it. So tell them the truth: you couldn't leave your brother. Third, they're going to want you to be sorry, to wish you hadn't done what you did. But I can tell that you're not sorry, that you'll never be sorry and frankly I think that's right of you. So let them know that too. Keeping secrets from the authorities never helped anyone and it won't help you either. _

_That's all I can think of. I hope things work out for you and Damian. He's the second youngest werewolf I've ever hear of (my Granddad's friend Remus Lupin was bit when he was 5) and try to get the Ministry to realize they __**have **__to make exceptions for him since he's so little._

_- James Sirius Potter_

_P.S. Don't worry, mum's the word_

_P.P.S. I don't know what football is either._

James sealed the letter and left the dorm, on his way to the owlery to send it right away. But he was stopped by his family in the common room.

"What was the letter?" Fred asked.

"Like I said, nothing important to you." James replied.

"Bet it was some bird." Louis murmured.

"I heard that." James said opening the portrait hole.

"Wait, James." Vic called. "McGonagall needs to know what classes you're signing up for before dinner. I've come to collect them and you're the last Gryffindor not to hand his in."

Shoot. Did he really want to leave that last slot open? Not really. He just didn't want to take Divination. And the other option for that period was Muggle Studies. His fingers rubbed the letter in his hand.

"I have to go Vic, for the last slot, just tick Muggle Studies alright? Thanks, you're the best."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, I got a bit stuck, as I think I will be at least until the end of 3rd year (though I do plan for 3rd year to go by rather quickly). I also realized that I warned chapters would be long. But it looks like I lied about that one... hmmm... sorry? This story changes everyday and we just have to cope together. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc. belongs to Rowling. No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

**Chapter 7: More Letters**

The photographs were back at last. Honestly you'd think a place that advertised 1 hour development would be able get the photos done in a week. I skipped into the house, none of that mattered now. I was _not _going to let something as silly as photos get me down. I raced upstairs to my bedroom and sat at my desk to write another letter.

_James Sirius Potter,_

_Thank you so much for all your help. I honestly don't know what I would've done without you. After my meeting with Healer Bones and the Head of your department of keeping your world secret, when they banned me from St. Mungo's Lycanthropy ward and Damian's grades and attitude took another drop, I cried myself to sleep every night in a puddle of chocolate. You really should see if anyone's searching for a Prince Charming or a Demigod Hero, mate, cause you've swooped in to save Damian and I way too many times for you to not let your obvious rescuing talents go to waste. _

_What you said in your last letter was absolutely true. No werewolf is legally bound to spend the full moon at St. Mungo's. Enclosed are photos of Dad, Damian, Tasha, and some wizards we hired building Damian's Transformation Room in the backyard. It was_ _**so**_ _much fun to order them all about and watching the wizards trying to blend in as muggys (or whatever it is you call us normal folks)._

_The neighbor's, of course, couldn't see why we were making such a big fuss about a new garden shed, but that just added to the humour. Speaking of humour...DAMIAN LAUGHED! It wasn't a giggle or a chuckle it was a full-blown, roll on the floor, laughing fit! It all happened because Dad thinks he's twenty and decided it was a good idea to carry 15 planks of wood at the same time. Well he dropped them and then pulled his back trying to pick them back up. I tried to get him some help but he was adamant, "I'm a football player. Football players never age and they certainly don't need help carrying a few twigs!" I was really worried about him, and so was Tasha it seems. She used her wand to levitate the boards a bit, but not so much that Dad noticed. He started acting so proud of himself, saying it was easy and bragging about he hasn't aged one bit and he was just as fit as any college-boy and going on and on. Then when he finally got them to their location he dropped them and took this grandiose bow. As he was straightening up Tahsa levitated on of the boards so that it tapped him in the head and then flew around him once before settling back in its place._

_Dad's face went BRIGHT red. It was so funny, Tasha, Damian and I couldn't stop laughing. He acted kind of flustered for a bit but then he laughed too. It was so nice. If someone explained this scene to me in January I would have called him crazy. I never would have thought that my family would be ok again. But we are and it's partially because of you. (Sorry, James, you don't get all the credit, you may have done the research and given me some choice advice but __**I **__was the one who convinced Dad and Tasha and Healer Bones to accept the new plan). _

_Damian's doing well. His first full moon at home is in two weeks and he's very happy that Tasha will still come around with his meds and that for the actual full moon he'll get to stay home and be with Dad. Tasha will also come the next morning to help him with the aftermath. Dad says, since it's a school night, I won't be able to be involved but I'm okay with that. At least Damian has Dad._

_Anyway, I hope you're enjoying the holidays (unless wizards and witches are weird and don't have summer hols). Feel free to write again, even though it won't be for giving me advice._

_Best Wishes, _

_Isabelle Miranda Cross_

I looked at the photos once more before placing them in the envelop. One of them had captured Dad and Tasha, his hand on her shoulder, chuckling while Damian succumbed to laughter at their feet. Another showed a nice looking, rather large wizard called O'Flaherty trying to hide his wand behind his leg as he cast a permanent sound suffocating spell on the finished shed. There was another of all of them pushing against the wall, testing it's strength.

My favorite was, embarrassingly enough, of myself. I was wearing one of those yellow hard hats, facing the camera with a hammer in hand while the men were working hard in the background. I like it mostly because it's one of the few pictures of myself that I like. As a twelve and half year old girl football player with just a Dad and brother attending a mixed school I know I've forgotten how to be "pretty" or "stylish" or even the kind of girl people look at twice. My Aunt Helen tells me I could be stunning if I tried but I disagree, I'm pretty typical actually. I've got cropped blonde hair and sky blue eyes with a perky nose and wide mouth. I don't really mind being a plain jane though, because you don't have to be pretty to be a good sister and friend or play football well and those are the two things that matter to me.

I didn't like this picture because I looked good in one of Dad's old football jerseys, ripped up jeans and a hard hat that didn't complement my fair skin tone at all. I liked it because my smile wasn't faked, Tasha had managed to capture me really smiling, which was nice since my smile is definitely my best feature. I liked it because it shows that I was totally in charge of everything, which is exactly how I like things. I liked this picture so much I was second guessing sending it to James. I mean, it was the only one with me in it but I really didn't want to part with it... it was a really good picture!

_Get a grip on yourself, Isabelle. Just get more copies printed later! _I told myself as I sealed all the pictures, my favorite included, into the envelop. I then addressed it _James Sirius Potter, Hogwarts _and set it aside to have Tasha post later. I'm not sure why, but I couldn't help but hope that my favorite photo would also be James' favorite.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Captaincy**

"What's up, coz?" Fred asked, nudging James' shoulder. "Looks like you've seen a dementor. McGonagall didn't expel you did she?" When James still didn't react Fred smacked his cousin lightly on the head. "Nargle got your tongue?"

"I- I- I have to go." James folded his Hogwarts letter, stuck it in his pocket and raced upstairs. The Burrow wasn't exactly a private place, there was just one large room that all the boy cousins shared, but fortunately James knew a good locking charm. He sat down on his bed only to stand back up again. He needed to think. Actually the last thing he wanted to do was think. Normally if James wanted to ignore facts he would hop on his broomstick and fly around for a few hours, but right now, just thinking about his Nimbus 3000 made him want to puke.

There was a click and the door opened. "James?"

James whipped around to glare at the intruder. "Hey, how'd you get past- oh, hey, Teddy."

James' god-brother grinned at twirled his wand around. "It was a good charm, but I've passed my first year of training at the Auror office. Now, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Yeah right, a bloke doesn't tear up to his room like a lovesick 4th year unless something's wrong."

James felt the news - the confusing, brilliant, mind numbing, shocking, awful, exhilarating news - bubble in his chest until he couldn't contain it anymore. "Who the hell makes a third year Quidditch Captain?!" He nearly screamed.

Teddy didn't miss a beat. "Who the hell makes a first year Seeker? Or makes the biggest troublemaker in school Head Boy? Or puts a Weasley in Slytherin? Hogwarts is well known for making traditions, but it's just as well known for breaking those traditions at a moment's notice."

Jams ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, I think it's bloody brilliant. But... I'm 13! They had a whole team to choose from and-"

"You know they really didn't." Al said entering the room and sitting on a bed across from James. "Congratulations. Heard your outburst. Actually I think the whole of England did but that's besides the point."

"What _is _the point?" James asked frantically. He opened the letter once more and read it for the 5 hundredth time. He, James Sirius Potter, rising 3rd year, was to be Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain.

"The point is, you've got a helluva job ahead of you. Especially since you're replacing Wood. My suggestion, get started now." Al replied.

James rolled his eyes. "Obviously, but I still think there's been a mistake. I'm the youngest on the team! Fred's even a couple months older than me."

Al shook his head. "Shut it for a mo and listen. Gryffindor team is young anyway with both Siobhan and Vic graduated now. What were the options here? After Vic and Siobhan graduated there's 5 players left. McLaggen and Dom are the oldest, going into 6th year, but the bloke's a git and Dom's no leader. Next, Molly's a good chaser but knows squat about strategy and then there's Fred and you. Do you really think Wood would give the Captaincy to Fred over you because of a difference of a few months?"

James nodded seeing his brother's point. "Well. I mean, I suppose. Merlin, I wish Louis had made the team last year. Stupid git just _had _to cuss out a teacher in French as Vic was walking by. And of course his detention was on the day of tryouts. He should be Captain."

There was a thundering of feet and the boy in question, along with Fred appeared in the doorway, breathing heavily.

"Just, heard, the, news." Fred panted, leaning against the doorframe. "Congrats, mate. You, deserve, this."

"Look I know it's not fair to have a family bias, but I swear to be at tryouts this year." Louis said, taking a seat next to Al. "I'm a better beater and better team player than McLaggen. You know that."

Fred's eyes took on a mischievous glint. "That's right...what do you think good old McLaggen'll think about this one eh? Getting him to obey a girl was hard enough last year. Now he's got to listen to an ickle 3rd year. This'll be rich!"

James swore under his breath. Seeing as the majority of the Quidditch team was his own family, James hadn't given much thought to how the team would react to his Captaincy. But now he realized that it could be a real problem. "All right. Out. I need to start strategizing."

"Come on, James." Teddy said placing a hand on his shoulder. "School doesn't start up again for a while. I say a celebratory Quidditch match followed by a huge feast is in order. Here, I'll even dress for the occasion." Teddy grinned as he turned his cobalt hair to a Gryffindor scarlet.

_Man that was a tempting idea but..._ "You all can play if you want. I need to write Siobhan Wood, see if I can get my hands on her playbook or even better, her Dad's. She owes me anyway, seeing as this whole thing is her fault."

"You're not really mad, are you?" Louis asked, incredulous.

"Naw. He's just got a lot on his mind." Al said standing up. "All right. We'll give you two hours, but then we play. Come on, let's go spread the news. I can't wait to see Mum's face!"

"Listen, Weasley. I think we both know that out of the two of us, I'd do the job better. I'm not telling you what to do, I'm just saying that it's in the best interest of the whole team that you step-"

"Callum will you shut up? I'm not even Captain."

James froze as he exited the train's loo. He peeked into the compartment to his right. Sure enough McLaggen was leaning against the doorframe looking down at a rather annoyed looking Dominique.

"You're not Captain?" McLaggen sounded incredulous and James considered silently continuing on to his own compartment. But he'd have to face McLaggen sooner or later so James chose the Gryffindor, that is the most direct, route.

"I am." He said.

McLaggen whipped around and upon spotting James his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates and his cheeks took on a pinkish color. "Potter?!"

James couldn't help himself. "That's Captain Potter to you."

McLaggen blanched then sneered. "Oh I get it now. Ha-ha, another famous Weasley-Potter prank. Well, unlike some I take Quidditch seriously. So if you'll run along Dominique and I have things to discuss."

"I am Captain. If you've got an issue with that talk to Professor Longbottom or Madame Spinnet. Now if you'll excuse me..." James turned his back to the burly sixth year, desperately hoping he would leave him alone.

"Oi Potter!"

Well it _was _a pretty pathetic hope. "Yes?"

"You're not joking. You really are Quidditch Captain?"

"Yes." James replied shortly. This was getting annoying.

"What was that?!" There was a sliding noise and a pretty dark haired witch stuck her head into the hallway. "Callum, what did you say?"

"Go away, Isla. This is Quidditch stuff, it doesn't concern you."

"James that is such _fantastic _news!" The girl - Isla he supposed - tittered. "You must be the youngest Quidditch Captain in all of history!" With that she skipped over to James and threw her arms around him in an awkward hug like thing before releasing him and smiling this hugely obnoxious grin.

"Erm. Thanks. Uh, do I know you?"

"See he doesn't even know who you are, Isla, go away." McLaggen grunted.

The petite witch glared up at McLaggen. James had to give her one thing, she had guts. "Shut up, brother, you don't know what you're talking about." She turned to face James and seeing that he was confused seemed to get tears in her eyes. "You mean you don't remember me? I'm a third year Gryffindor like you. We have all our classes together. In Transfiguration I sit behind you and to the left."

"Er." Suddenly James _did _remember. Isla McLaggen, gossip and giggle-r extraordinaire. "Oh, yeah. Funny I knew you were siblings I just never _knew _you were siblings. You know?"

They both looked at him funny. Apparently they _didn't _know so James moved on. "Anyway. I have to get back. Quidditch tryouts will be sometime in the second week, hopefully. And I guess I'll see you in class, Isla."

Isla looked as though someone had just given her Holyhead Harpies seasons tickets. "See you in class, James!"

Again James had barely gone a meter when Callum stopped him again. "What do you mean tryouts?"

"Tryouts for the Quidditch team. Like I said I'll hopefully be able to schedule them for the second week of classes but-"

"But I don't need to go to tryouts. I'm already on the team."

"Sorry, McLaggen, can't risk that there's another player out there who's better than you. If it makes you feel any better no one is guaranteed a spot. Heck, I'll even kick myself off the team if I find a really brill chaser."

"Oh, come on Potter. I understand that you might want to get rid of a few players without causing any family strife. But really, you and I both know I'm best in the school. There's really no reason for me to come. If anyone asks, we'll just let them think it's because of our parent's history."

That confused James. "What've our parents got to do with this?"

"You know, our parents were really close in their Hogwarts days. Cormac McLaggen and Romilda, Mum's maiden name is Vane. Dad doesn't talk about it much, but I'm pretty my parents are the reason you're Mum wasn't killed by the Carrows several times over and they convinced you're Dad to come out of hiding and stop running from his fate."

James fought to keep his face straight. "Ok, sure...but you'll have to tryout like everyone else on the team. It's only fair."

McLaggen looked disappointed but flashed him a cheery grin. "Very well, fair's fair. Afterall we don't want rumors starting about our young Captain being inadequate."

James turned again and, finding that McLaggen did not immediately follow him, booked it to his compartment where Fred, Louis and Molly were trading chocolate frog cards.

"Louis, I swear, if you don't show McLaggen up at tryouts I will murder you with your own beater's bat."

"And I'll help." Fred added. "Git's a right pain in the arse. Awful partner to have."

"I don't see why you don't just kick him off the team, James." Molly commented. "Say it's in the name of unsportsmanlike behavior or something like that."

Louis shook his head. "He can't do that, there'll be enough talk about him being the youngest Quidditch Captain in eight decades. He won't want people blaming him of favoritism too since half the team's his family. We'll have to make sure it's clear all of us are on the team on pure talent."

"Just train hard and give me a real reason to replace him with you, besides the fact that, you know, you and Fred actually play well together."

Louis fidgeted with his dragon tooth necklace and grinned."Of course... Captain."

He was nervous, James could tell. "Oi, listen! McLaggen's good but he's not great. What I'm saying is that if you train hard over these next two weeks you _will _beat him. I know you will. I've seen you both play and while you focus on the game, McLaggen sticks his nose in everyone's business and tries to play every position. You'll be fine, but don't blow this off. Fred, I hereby make you Louis' personal trainer. The day the two of you don't find some time in your schedules to work on his skills and your chemistry as a team is the day I tie you to a tree in the Forbidden Forest for the night, clear?"

Both his cousins nodded and James nodded back. Louis would replace McLaggen. He had to.

* * *

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc. belongs to JK Rowling, no copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: I hope you liked that I had Cormac McLaggen end up with Romilda Vane. They just seem to deserve each other, am I right? Like Ares and Aphrodite. Also thanks to Alex for beta-ing (and doing such a quick job of it too!) **


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Only Me when I'm with You**

_Knock. Knock. _I hastily tossed James' latest letter beneath my Maths homework and sat up straighter at my desk. "Enter."

It was Dad. "Isabelle? Can I talk to you in my office please? I know you're not really doing homework."

I followed him down the hall. "How do you figure that one?"

"An owl flew up to your bedroom window not eight minutes ago. I assume you received a letter from James Potter."

I followed him to his office. It was a mess as usual. So I cleared the desk, placing reports, scientific journals, beakers, newspapers, coffee mugs, data books and Excel sheets on the floor to take my usual seat, crossed legged on the desk facing Dad who sat in a swivel chair. Some of my friends thought it was weird Dad and I talked like this. But our house was small and it was near impossible to have a private conversation in the kitchen or sitting room. Dad also has this policy that bedrooms are private sanctuaries meant for personal use. So I'd talked with Dad in his office, sitting on his desk this way since I was little.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "You're assuming that I tear open his letters and read them the moment I get them."

He just looks at me. "So how is he?"

I replied trying to keep the bitterness of defeat out of my voice ."Good. He's the Captain of his sport's team."

"That's impressive."

"I know, but Dad I don't get any of it! He kept going on and on about brooms and flying balls and this loser who used to be a beater, whatever that is, and who he had to make keeper even though he's a git and something about someone's sister and a fan club!"

Dad smiles. "Just congratulate him and remind him that if he keeps his head in the game and gets his team to focus everything will be okay."

"Are you sure?"

He scoffs. "That's sports advice, it could apply to table tennis - not to mention some wizard sport."

"If you're sure..."

"I'm sure. Did he mention anything else?"

"Yeah. He's taking this class where he learns all about normal people and how we live, which is totally unfair by the way. I mean, how come he gets to learn about us, but we never get to learn about his world?! But anyway, he wanted me to explain the telly to him - the _telly! _How am I supposed to explain that? It's like a photo but it moves and talks and changes. Blimey, what if they don't have photos?! They have to know what paintings are right? But, come on, I mean, how do they not have the telly? Do they have any sort of entertainment industry? And how do they find out what goes on in other places. God, I bet they still all read newspapers."

"They do actually." Dad picked up a newspaper from the floor. "The most popular one in England is _The Daily Prophet. _Look, they do have photos."

I looked closely at the obsolete collection of printed paper. "These aren't photos. They're printed GIFs! Okay, that's so cool. And it gives me an idea of how to explain the telly. But still, there's so much cool stuff in his world and nothing's happened to me in soooo long. I feel like I've got nothing to write him."

"Well, hopefully I can help out with that one."

"What?"

"You didn't think I brought you here just to talk about James Potter, did you?" I shook my head and smiled. His expression grew serious. "You know what tomorrow is."

"Saturday... oh. Yes, it's the full moon tomorrow night."

"Exactly. It's also the first Saturday of the month, meaning there's a staff meeting at the Lab."

"Oh. That's a real pickle. Especially as they've been so understanding giving you days off to be with Damian."

"Precisely. And seeing as it is not a school night... Isabelle, I know I have no right to ask this, but will you accompany your brother during the full moon tomorrow night?"

A huge grin spread across my face. "You mean it? Really, really?"

"Really, really."

* * *

_Three Months Later - __**December 2018**_

"It's kind of hard to believe, isn't it?" I whispered to no one in particular. I was sitting on the front porch silently contemplating the pavement where everything had changed exactly one year ago. I pulled my cardigan tighter around myself and watched my icy breath curl up into the night sky in white wisps. It was late, Damian was asleep and Tasha, after months of him begging, had agreed to take Dad to see Wizarding London. They would be back in a couple hours but for now I was alone.

"Isabelle Miranda Cross. It's been a year." A familiar voice says.

I look in one direction, then the other and there he is, walking towards me, out of the shadows, "James Sirius Potter. Way to scare the tuna salad out of a girl."

He throws me a lopsided grin and holds up a flask. "Sorry, would you care for a pumpkin juice?"

"God, yes. That stuff's better than Pepsi. Here." I motioned for him to sit in the spot next to me on the stairs.

"Thanks. Even though I don't know what a Pessy is."

I jump up. "I'll be right back." I return not a moment later with two glasses and a bottle of Pepsi. "No matter what anyone tells you, this is better than Coke, okay?"

He pours me glass of pumpkin juice while I pour him Pepsi and we swap glasses. "Whatever you say, Belle."

"Don't call me Belle."

"But Isabelle is too long to say."

"Deal with it, Jimmy."

"Jimmy? Really? I'm not three. And is this stuff supposed to burn my nose? It's not alcoholic, is it?"

"Alcohol burns your throat, not your nose. It's just carbonated, is all."

He takes another sip and runs a hand through his messy hair. "I like it... Iz."

"Eurgh, that one's the worst. This total wanker in my History class calls me that. So how long are you in the neighborhood, Jimbo?"

"No. Absolutely not Jimbo. Dad's coming to apparate me home tomorrow morning, Isa."

"You didn't row with your brother again, did you, Jim?"

"Al? Nah, we're good. I'm here for my cousin Daedalus, Isa-randa, he had a lot of questions about Hogwarts and I stuck around to mess with him. Rising first years are sooooo gullible -"

"Wait a mo. First, Isa-randa? That doesn't even sound like my name. Second, your cousin Daedalus is going to Hogwarts next term?"

"Isa-randa is a mix of Isabelle and Miranda."

"But that's longer and more complex than just Isabelle... Jame-irus. And answer the other question."

"About Daeda? Sure he's going t Hogwarts in September. That's kind of what led me here, I figured if I could convince Daeda - who's only semi-familiar with the Wizarding world to begin with - that Mountain Trolls patrol the halls 24/7 then I could probably convince Damian too and, how did you put it? Oh yes, scare the tuna salad out of him."

I stared at him, dumbstruck. "But, but, Damian's not going to Hogwarts."

James raised an eyebrow at me. "But your letters said... and Daeda was sure that... He vanished the Custodian's Hair!"

I stared into my glass of pumpkin juice watching the orange liquid swirl around. They really were quite mesmerizing...

"Isabelle?" James asked.

"Okay! **Yes **he vanished Mr. Sharbatsky's hair and **yes **he somehow got the neighbor's cat stuck up a chimney - effectively causing us to lose all hope to get another pet, by the way - and **yes **he and Daeda Dursley have been wreaking havoc all over town and **yes **I've had to repaint the walls of my bedroom three times in the past month and **yes **he's somehow managed to get our flowers to survive this year and **yes **he's for certain one of your kind! And **yes **I am in denial!" By now I was weeping. I never weep. Ever. Except, it seems, when I'm around James Sirius Potter.

"It'll be okay, Isabelle." James took out his wand, conjured up a hankie with _JSP _embroidered in the corner and handed it to me. "He'll be a great wizard. And he'll love Hogwarts. He'll be in the same year as Daeda so he'll already know someone. And there's a new influx of Clanners this September too, I'll make sure he gets introduced to my sister and cousins."

I wipe my tears and keep looking at the ground. James' words aren't making me feel any better - they're making me feel worse. A lot worse.

"Izzy, please, what's the matter. Damian will be fine."

"That's just it." I wail., tears starting to flow again. "I'm not even worried about Damian. I'm worried about _me. _I'm a horrid sister. All I can think about is how my brother's leaving me alone for the majority of the year! And I can't even talk to anyone about it! This might sound weird but Damian and I are close, really close. He won't even let Dad be with him on the full moons anymore, just me. And I should probably feel bad about that but I love it! I tell him everything and he tells me everything too and he's my best friend and in six months he'll be gone! And I can't even really tell anyone about it. He's the only person close to my age I can really be myself around because I don't have to worry about slipping up and leaking magical secrets around him, you know?"

James's arm is around my shoulder now and I lean into him. He smells nice; like wood and leather. "Don't worry about, Izzy. You can write him and there are visits. You'll be okay."

"No I won't be."

"You're right. You won't be, but you'll get used to it."

"I wish I didn't have to."

"I know."

We sit there like that, me leaning into his chest, his arm around my shoulder, for a few moments until we realize that we're totally invading each other's space. We jump apart.

"So, uh, where's Damian?" James asks.

"It's a quarter past nine, James and he's only ten. He's asleep."

"Oh, I guess I'll have to wait to torment him on the train, then."

"And who says you're going to torment my brother, Jay?"

"Fine. Do I have your permission, over-protective sister, torment your little brother? Keep in mind that he has no older brother to do this and without me he might go through adolescence unscathed and some out a total stiff?"

"No you do not and Damian will grow up just fine."

"Fine." James stood up. "I'll ask your Dad. Keep in mind that he would give me the key to Department of Mysteries if I asked for it."

"I don't even know what that means, but he's not here. Tasha and he have been touring Wizarding London since ten this morning."

James sat back down and took another swig of Pepsi. "Is that so?"

"Yep. Nothing's official but Damian and I are pretty sure there's something there."

"Um. Yeah, no clue what to say to that. I've never been good in that department."

I roll my eyes, "Yeah, sure, like I'd ever believe that. But it's okay. Tasha's nice and we have nice girly chats - a nice relief from all the testosterone clouding up my house. Damian adores her and she and Dad seem happier when they're around each other, so that's good."

"But...?"

There's no point in hiding stuff from James. He can seem to tell when I'm holding something back and after all, what I said earlier was a bit of a lie. Damian is not the only person I don't need to watch my mouth around. I don't have to walk on eggshells around James. "But, it is a little weird. I mean, it's just strange how people move on and that, that the present doesn't really effect the past, or does it? And love is confusing. If I think about it too much my head hurts. So I try not to think about it too hard. We're happy and Mum's happy in heaven and just wants us all to be as happy as we can be without her, I guess. And what happened, happened and what's happening now is good so... yeah."

"Alright, enough deep stuff. Do you know what Quidditch is yet?"

"Nope. Do you know what football is?"

"Nope but I have played some pretty good pranks lately."

"Me too."

I heard a crack from inside the house and then Dad call my name. "Isabelle."

I stand up. "That'll be them. I should get to bed."

"Well I'll see you around, Izzy." He stands up and envelopes me in a quick hug.

"You're not going to give up on the nickname thing, are you?"

"Nope."

"Well, Izzy... it's growing on me. Stick to that one and I won't give you a black eye... Jamie."

He winced slightly "I really don't like when people give me nicknames."

"Well neither do I so deal with it. Besides, out of all the nicknames for James, you have to admit, Jamie suits you best."

"As Izzy suits you."

It wasn't until after he left that I realized I was still holding his handkerchief.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, etc. belongs to JK Rowling. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N: **I am SO sorry for the delay my lovely readers. I have excuses: 1. The Superbowl (I'm a red blooded American, you really can't hold this one against me). 2. My job 3. Draco and Astoria are quite distracting. 4. LBD is even more distracting. 5. Andromeda and Ted are the most distracting. But I'm back and it's actually good that there was a delay because James wasn't going to be in this chapter at all but when I sat down to my computer today he was all like, "You're really going to make me wait a whole nother chapter to see her? Really? You _do _know she's the only reason I keep going to the Dursely's right?" So he managed to get himself in here and I'm sure we're all happy about that.

**Note: **Virtual cookies to anyone who got the "scare the tuna salad out of him" reference. **Edit: **no one got the reference... I guess no one else has little siblings/small children in their lives who are obsessed with Mo Willems picture books. "Leonardo, the Terrible Monster" read it, it's good.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Diagon Alley**

There's nothing worse than waking up to the sounds of obnoxious yells, someone pounding up the stairs, down the hallway and just _knowing _they are headed for your bedroom. James snuggled deeper into his blankets and desperately tried to cling to sleep.

His door swung open with a loud bang, the lights came on with a blinding light and suddenly his sister was on top of him.

"Wake up, James! Wake up! I got my letter! My letter! I got it! I'm going to Hogwarts! I'm going to be in Gryffindor! I'm going to play for the Quidditch team! I'm going to take Divination! AND DADDY'S GOING TO BUY ME A WAAAAAND! Wake up James! Wake up!"

James threw his sister off his bed. "Go bother Albus." It was Sunday. The one day of the week he allowed himself to sleep in instead of engaging in early morning Quidditch training routines and by Merlin he was going to enjoy it!

Lily froze for a moment and then ran out of James' room screaming "AAAAAAAALBUUUUUUUUSS!"

Little sisters were annoying.

But not as annoying as little brothers. James had exactly one minute and seventeen seconds more rest before Lily returned with Albus in tow. The two managed to get their older brother upright and then began shouting at the top of their lungs.

"LILY'S GOING TO HOGWARTS!"

"I'M GOING TO HOGWARTS!"

"SHE'S GOING TO BE IN SLYTHERIN!"

"I'M GOING TO BE IN GRYFFINDOR!"

"JAMES CELEBRATE THIS WITH US!"

James sighed. If he had to get up there was nothing better to wake up to than a celebration.

* * *

"So when's the trip to Diagon Alley, Dad?" James asked. It was about a half hour later and the five Potters were gathered around the kitchen table. "Oooh! Can Hugo and Roxy and Lucy and Daeda come too?!" Lily squealed. Dad shook his head. "We don't want to overwhelm the general populace. Besides I think Uncle D and Aunt Claire already went with Mrs. Figg."

Al aimed a kick at Crookshanks II, who they were cat-sitting. "And Rose and Hugo won't be back in the country until three days before term, remember?"

"And Percy took the girls to get their things last week. I spoke to him yesterday about it already." Mum added, taking a sip of tea.

Lily sighed, "But can I go with Roxy? Please, please, please?"

"I don't see why not." Dad replied. "Even if she's already got her things she and Fred will probably be hanging around the shop anyway. I have off tomorrow, we'll go then."

James swore that if Lily had another reason to be happy, she would explode.

* * *

"Too bad I don't need a new broom." Fred was nearly drooling at the sight of the _Firebolt Conflagration Generation III_.

"I still think the Nimbuses have less drag. I mean look that tailend. Look at it and tell me it's aerodynamically sound." James responded.

Fred rolled his eyes. "When you're a beater you need quick response time, not aerodynamics."

James was shocked at his cousins stupidity and punched his arm."It's a broom! Of course it needs aerodynamics!"

Fred rubbed the sore spot. "Ow. Hey, will you push me into the Whomping Willow first practice of term? My broom will break and I'll get Dad to buy me..."

"Absolutely not." James deadpanned.

"Please, James? Look at her, she's perfect! I need this broom, James."

"No you don't. And if I throw you into the Willow you're sure to get injured and then I'll be down a player and I won't hear the end of it from McLaggen, saying that I should do something idiotic, like let him play every position at once."

"Please, I mean... She's beautiful. I can just imagine running my fingers over her and feeling the wind in my face as I-"

"Hokay, I'll leave you two alone for a bit. I'm off to look at the gloves. I'm in need of a new pair."

James walked to the front of the store where the apparel section was and found something - or rather someone - he hadn't expected at all.

Izzy. How did she manage to always catch him by surprise? James _knew _she would have to come to Diagon Alley at some point this summer. Just as he had _known _she would be around every time he visited the Dursley's, but he always found himself in a state of shock whenever she popped up.

She stuck out like a sore thumb with her muggle clothes and that hair. First it was short; not even brushing her shoulders, and most witches wore their hair at least halfway down their backs. Second it was blonde. Not white blonde like Victoire but actually golden-ish and the color changed whenever she turned her head. Third it was straight. James had never seen anyone with hair that straight, it just fell, like hair was supposed to without sticking up or curling at weird angles or anything! Call him a creep, but James found Isabelle Miranda Cross' so fascinating he would be sure to propose it as the eighth wonder of the world.

She and Damian were looking with unabashed fascination at a cage of snitches. The young lycanthrope (as James was raised to call people with that condition) looked older than the last time James had seen him and not in a _I haven't seen you in 18 months _way more of a _I've seen more shit than anyone ever should _way. But Damian's eyes, bright blue and so much like his sister's, showed that he was doing well - better than well. He was laden with shopping bags from just about every store in the Alley and looked like he was in heaven.

Before he could greet them Izzy turned around and saw him. "Jamie!"

"Hello, Izzy, Damian. What brings you here?"

Damian grinned, transforming his scarred face in a way that reminded James of his Uncle Bill. "James? James Potter! Good to see you mate. I'm going to Hogwarts! I'm a wizard!"

James looked at Izzy, she smiled at him. She had written that she was getting used to Damian's leaving in her letters, but it was reassuring to see it written on her face.

"That's awesome, Damian. You're going to love Hogwarts, just watch out for the..."

"Ahem." Isabelle cleared her throat rather loudly and glared at him, eyebrows raised.

Damian looked smug. "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure nothing will mess with me. I'm not invincible but being a werewolf has it's pros."

Alarmed James looked quickly over his shoulder. Good, no one was paying them any mind. He squatted down so he was eye-level with Damian.

"Dame, mind of I call you Dame? No? Good. Listen Dame, I think it's pretty cool you're a lycanthrope. And everything will be organized to a T up at Hogwarts to get you what you need. But it may not be the _best _idea if you advertise your... furry little problem."

Damian's eyebrows scrunched together and the brightness in his eyes faded. "You mean, not everyone knows that werewolves exist?"

"Oh they know. But not everyone is...well informed about it and make harsh and unfair judgements and-"

Damian gave him a curt nod. "I understand. Some people will think I'm a freak."

Isabelle inhaled sharply. James looked up at her. She had gone a bit pale.

"Don't worry about it, Isabelle." Damian put a hand on her arm. "Tasha will be there for September and I'll be fine. It's not like I haven't had to keep this a secret before."

Isabelle nodded. "Why don't you go look at those flying brooms, Damian? We've only got fifteen minutes before we meet up with Dad and Tasha at the ice cream place."

"Okay, and you're sure I can't buy one?"

"The letter said..." Isabelle began but Damian was already gone. James straightened up and Isabelle rounded on him. "So what's the deal?"

"What do you mean?" James asked.

"I was made to think that Lycanthropy was just another wizarding disease. And now I'm getting all these mixed messages about keeping it all secret while he's up there and-"

James put up a hand to stop her. "It's _not _just a disease, you know that. And yes there is still prejudice against lycanthropes but it's getting better. Should everyone just trust that the Healers are doing their jobs and that there's no threat? Sure. But do they? No. That's just how things are."

She opened her mouth to protest but James just continued. "And before you start talking about changing people's attitudes and making a difference know that I completely agree with you. This stupid bigotry _has _to end, but not at the expense of your little brother. It's not right that he should be a martyr for this cause unless he chooses it himself."

She bit her lip and nodded.

"Hey, what's wrong?" _Nice job, James. _He berates himself. _What's wrong? What __**isn't **__wrong? Please don't cry again, I hate it when you cry._

"I'm just worried about him." She says quietly. "I mean, he's never done it without a family member at least close by and he hasn't done it without me in eight months. I know he'll be safe and cared for, but I'm more worried about the...emotional effects."

James couldn't cure her brother, but he could certainly help him out. "I'll keep an eye on him for you, okay? And I'll keep you posted on his... health. If things get bad for him I'm sure they could organize a visit home one weekend."

Light returned to her eyes. "Really, Jamie? You'd do that for me?"

"Of course. Hey, are you going to be there, at the King's Cross?"

She shook her head and James couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"Sorry, no." Izzy said. "Term starts for me next week and I'll be in school on the 1st. But I'll be sure to write you."

"And I'll be sure to write you back."

She looked at her watch. "Oh. Dad and Tasha will be wondering where we are. Do you want to come have ice cream with us?"

James ran a hand through his hair, thinking. Did he want to? Bloody hell, yes. Izzy was fantastic and it was completely unfair that they never got to hang out because she was a muggle and he was a wizard. He'd even asked McGonagall if she was _sure _that muggles couldn't attend Hogwarts. For some reason Snape's portrait found this extremely interesting and kept muttering "how ironic." But it was getting pretty late in the afternoon and Lily would be upset if he didn't spend _some _time with her while in the Alley.

"I should probably get back to my family too. My sister Lily's starting this September and she wanted me to be there when she got her wand."

She doesn't seem too disappointed that he had turned her down and that kind of peeved him. She just said, "Cool, well, I'll see you around, I guess. Damian, let's go."

Damian returned to his sister's side, his face alight. "I don't care what the rules say. I'm getting a broom and you totally know that Dad will be behind me on this. He nearly bought all five owls in that pet shop and Tasha spent a half hour convincing him that nifflers do not make good household pets."

They turned to leave and James found he didn't want to see them go but tried to be cool about it. Like Izzy had been. "So I'll see you at Hogwarts, Damian?"

"See you James." Damian replied.

"Bye, Izzy."

"Goodbye, Jamie."

James stared at them as they left, rooted to the spot, a bad taste in his mouth.

* * *

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc. belongs to JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended**

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this. I'm up to 10 chapters! Hooray! I think that deserves a review... right?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc. belong to JK Rowling. No copyright infringement intended.**

**A/N: Okay, thought I'd do some explaining for you all. I think you can agree that Jamie and Izzy's friendship so far is... weird. I'm sorry for that and for jumping around so much. I just didn't know how to else to explain the weirdness and wonderfulness of their history without just showing you. So that's what Chapters 1 - 10 were really about. Now things will be a bit more... normal, or at least more consistent. Also I would promise that future chapters will be longer but the last time I did that the story got away from me and wouldn't let me keep that promise.**

**A****/N Take 2: I was looking over the past chapters and realized that where I thought I was adding breaklines I wasn't. Sorry if that caused confusion. I went back and fixed that up and edited a few things in the past chapters (there's no reason to go back and reread them though, there were no major changes). If there's anything else I do that inhibits your understanding of the story leave it in a review of PM me, please! Thanks! **

**A/N Take 3: Just want to say that I LOVE the Weasleys. They are undeniably my favorite family in ALL of literature (and I'm counting the Pevensies and Boxcar Children here). So if you don't like the Weasleys or (for some crackhead reason) think that they're dysfunctional or let each other get into abusive relationships or just never spend time with each other: 1 - you're wrong and 2 - you'll probably hate my version of the Clan. Also yes, I add a bunch of younger siblings to Percy's and George's families. My reasoning: they came from a fantastic big family, why would they only have 2 kids? (And before you judge my reasoning; I know what I'm talking about when it comes to big families, trust me) I also give Neville a couple kids and Luna an extra non-canon kid.**

**A/N Take 4: What's happened so far: Isabelle Miranda Cross, her widowed father and her younger brother Damian are neighbors to Dudley Dursley, his wife and their son Daedalus. James Sirius Potter met Isabelle when they were seven and their paths crossed every now and again due to the mutual acquaintance. In James' third year he saved Isabelle and Damian from a werewolf, though Damian was bitten and is now a werewolf. Damian Cross, Daedalus Dursley, and Lily Potter along with Roxanne, Hugo and Lucy Weasley entered 1st year in James' 4th year. James promised that he would look after Damian and make sure he had no problems dealing with his lycanthropy while at Hogwarts. So without further ado...**

**Chapter 11: Christmas at the Burrow**

**December 2018 (James' fourth year)**

"So there's this Christmas Party that Hugo's family's throwing and I'm invited." Damian said over breakfast. He had just got back from Hogwarts yesterday for the Christmas Hols and it's nice to see him dressed as a normal human being again in jeans and a rugby shirt. That's the way life should be, no foolish robes. I truly think its brilliant Damian's a wizard, but the magical community's sense of fashion is greatly lacking.

"Will Hugo's parents be there? What about all his cousins?" Dad asked.

"I think it's just his grandparents who'll be home. And as for his cousins, they'll probably all be there. Daeda's going too, though."

Dad's mouth twitched and I know he's thinking of the huge and rather complicated family that Damian had tried to describe in his letters. From what I understood the Weasleys were a… rowdy group. "I have to work all week, son. And I don't know the Weasleys well enough to let you go on your own."

"Is that a no?" Damian asked picking at his eggs.

"Not necessarily. I just don't want you going alone." Dad replied.

"Hey, what if Isabelle went with me?" Damian said, suddenly excited.

"What?!" I exclaimed.

"Now that's an idea. Isabelle, please figure this one out for me. I've got to get going to work. Thanks for breakfast."

Since Mum died I was the official events planner in the family but this was a completely different realm. "Well, okay. But..."

"I love you, bye!" Once he left I rounded on my little brother.

"Seriously?"

"What? I hear Weasley Functions are the best. Hugo says his cousin Fred always brings free stuff from his Dad's shop!"

"Damian. They're all magical and I won't know anyone! I've never actually met a Weasley!"

"But Rose and Molly are really nice; I know you'll be great friends with them. Besides they won't care you can't do magic."

I sighed. "So when exactly is this party?"

"This Friday."

"No; absolutely not, Damian."

"What? Why not?"

"Are you aware what phase we're about to enter? You'll be on meds that day."

"Aw, c'mon Isabelle, it'll be an entire week before the transformation! Full moon's not till next Friday."

"Exactly, you're not going to a crazy party one week before the moon. Don't beg; you're not going."

"But I'll be fine. I swear and there's no danger at all."

"But you always get so sickly when you're on meds. A party will be the last thing your tired body needs. Besides what will your friends think?"

"Oh, they won't care. They think I'm asthmatic or something anyway and they're used to me being a bit sickly. And I'll be fine, really!"

"No."

"Please! For me, the little brother you never get to see or do anything for?"

I glared at him, "Blackmail won't get you anywhere."

"Sure it will!"

I sighed. "I'm not saying yes, but where is this party anyway?"

"The Burrow."

"So we're partying with rabbits, now?"

"Har-har. It's where Hugo's grandparents live. They have all their functions there, it's supposed to be this enormous shack-like mansion!"

"Well, where is it?"

"I dunno. Somewhere outside Devon, I think."

I roll my eyes. "Well that helps out a lot. How are we supposed to get to this burry?"

"Burrow." Damian corrected. "I'll ask Daeda how he's getting there. If nothing else one of the adults can apparate us there and back."

I wrinkled my nose. "I hate apparating and the answer's still no."

"If I take care of all the travel arrangements will you come, as a Christmas present?"

I must be going mad but I nod consent.

"Brilliant! I'll owl Hugo right now and I'll ask Daeda and Mr. D how he's getting to the Burrow."

* * *

I couldn't deny I was feeling nervous. I didn't like meeting new people or being the odd one out and this afternoon I was sure to be both.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Damian asked as I come down the stairs.

"Like what?" I was wearing a black and gray jumper-dress with red skinny jeans, and gray combat boots. Cute in a bad-ass kind of way – perfectly acceptable, right?

Damian shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Well… like a muggle?"

"I _am _a muggle." I replied testily.

"I know. But didn't you see the robes I bought for you at Diagon Alley? Lily helped me pick them out, she called them fashionable."

I smiled at him; he was wearing some sort of red and gold dress thing I guess you'd call robes. "They're nice, Dame. But only witches wear robes and I'm not going to dress like something I'm not."

"You'll stand out." He said.

"I know." I snapped. "Let's just get to Daeda's."

We bundled up and walked next door to the Dursley's. Mrs. D wished us a Happy Christmas when we entered and Daeda was waiting for us in the sitting room.

"Happy Christmas, now c'mon we're already late!" Daeda said ushering us close to the fireplace. "Now flooing is very easy, a toddler can do it, so don't be afraid.."

"Have a good time dears and don't stay out too late." Mrs. D said giving us all a hug.

"If we do, blame Fred. It's normally his fault anyway." Daeda said taking out a bag of green dust. "Now just take a handful of the powder and enunciate. You go first, Isabelle."

"What, why me?"

"If you see how it works you'll probably lose your nerve." Daeda explained, nearly shoving me into the fireplace.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked hesitantly, taking a handful of the green dust.

"Please, Isabelle?" Damian said, putting on his puppy face.

I rolled my eyes and released the dust, "The Burrow."

I scrunched up my face as soot flew into it. Everything spun and right as I was about to be sick it froze and I stood in a fireplace in the middle of a very busy, very loud room. There were people, mostly redheads, everywhere and several cats milling about.

"Welcome! Happy Christmas!" A tall black boy with ginger colored curls greeted me and helped me out of the fireplace. "And who might you be, Blondie?"

I tried to introduce myself but ended up coughing on ash and soot.

"Oh, where are my manners?" He said apologetically. And, before I could stop him, he pointed his wand at me and muttered an incantation. The next moment I was completely clean and my airways were clear. Suddenly there was a whooshing sound behind me and Damian stood next to me.

"Oi! Happy Christmas, Fred." He said, waving his wand over himself to dispel the soot. "This is my sister, Isabelle."

"Nice to meet you Blondie, is Daeda coming?"

"I'm right here!" A voice called through the fireplace. In a moment he was next to us magiking the soot away.

Fred grinned "Good. Listen if you and Lily really want to see who can chug more eggnog, you better get started before James and I spike it all. The last thing we want are drunk eleven-year-olds, am I right?" He glanced at me and shot me a shifty grin.

I narrowed my eyes. I couldn't tell, but I was pretty sure I didn't like Fred.

"See you around, sis!" Damian said and ran away with Daeda.

"Um, don't do anything stupid!" I called after him. I mean what could I do, demand he introduce me to someone I can talk to?

I turned to Fred. "Um, is there a loo?"

"No."

"Ha-ha. Where's the loo?"

"We don't have one. Well, technically we do, but it's um, out of order right now."

I raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you all wizards? Can't you, like fix it with a wave of your wand?"

"Well I could if the problem was normal. But, you see it was hexed. And that's why our favorite Slytherin looks like a cross between a mermaid and a cow." He pointed to a fair blonde boy sitting on the couch. He was covered with black bruises and purple-y scales. He was being tended to by a concerned looking ginger girl and a somewhat familiar looking black haired boy who was stifling a laugh.

"Oh." I said, slightly shocked. "The hex made him look like that?"

"Yeah, I reckon he'll stay away from our loo for quite some time. But don't worry, Malfoy'll be alright and Uncle Bill's got the toilet situation under control. It should be up and running soon. In the meantime, there are quite a few trees outside."

"Ew. I think I'll be fine." I said walking away. Fortunately Fred didn't follow me.

I walked around the edges of the room observing everyone. I wasn't the only one in muggle clothes, but I could tell I was the only muggle. There was something about wizards and witches that just made them stand out. I can't quite describe it… they just had a curious sense of superiority and cynicism about them. No, that's mean. It's more like they were more confident of their own abilities than normal people and were less surprised by things. If that made sense.

I exited the sitting room and entered another family room, this one was occupied by a similar group but younger. I noticed Damian in a small crowd surrounding Daeda and a redhead girl, both of whom are downing mugs of eggnog while the others cheered them on. Through that room was the kitchen; there were mostly young adults in their early twenties in this room with a few older adults, who looked like they were on their way out. Suddenly the sound of a crying entered my ears.

My first thought was, _Damian! _But that was silly, it was obviously a baby's wails and Damian was eleven. I followed the sound to a playroom off the kitchen. There must have been half a dozen kids running around, all under eight. They were sprawled out on the floor, tossing toys around, flipping through books, munching on biscuits and other goodies or petting cats and in the center of it all was a white haired couple in rocking chairs. The woman was knitting and the man was reading a story to a little redheaded boy. The crying exuded from a dark haired girl of about three who was clutching her mother's leg.

"Now, now, Alice." The Mum was saying. "Daddy and I are coming back. You're going to have fun here with the twins and your brother."

"Mum! Mum! Mum!" The little girl kept crying.

"Really Alice, this is silly. Is Frankie making a fuss? No. Have fun with Grandmum and Grandpa Weasley."

Seeing that the woman was about to give in to her daughter's complaints I quickly grabbed a strange looking stuffed toy from the floor and tossed it at the girl's head. She looked so surprised she stopped crying and looked at me.

"Happy Christmas, Alice." I said.

Her eyes grew wide. "You know my name?"

"I can read minds!" I said in a hushed tone, kneeling down to look in her eyes.

"You're a Seer?" She whispered.

Oops. Leave it to wizards to have real mind readers! "Uh, yeah. Your brother's name is Frank."

She let go of her Mum's leg and clapped her hands. Her Mum mouthed a 'thank you' to me and hurriedly left.

"And you have friends who are _twins_." I continue.

She giggled and walked over to me. "Lor n Ly."

"Well Alice," I said picking up the toy. "I bet you I can guess what kind of creature this is."

"That's my stuffed Hippogriff." She said flatly.

"Oh, right." _Of course it was a Hippie-gruff-y; I should've known. _"Well, its name is," I glanced at the collar around its neck, "Rolf."

"Yup! Like Uncle Rolf." She turned around. "Hey, Lor, Ly, Frankie, everybody! This witch is a Seer!"

Two boys, twins I think from their matching robes though they looked nothing alike and a chubby dark haired boy I'm pretty sure is Alice's brother Frank walked over to me.

"Oh I'm not a witch." I said quickly. "I'm a muggle."

"You're not Seer?" Alice asked, squinting her eyes.

"Nope."

"But you're a muggle." Frank asked.

I nodded.

"Hey Grandpa Weasley!" He called out. "There's a muggle here!"

The old man in the rocking chair stood up immediately and walked over to me with an agility I knew must be due to magic.

"Arthur Weasley." He grinned, shaking my hand. "Are you really a muggle?"

I nodded. "My little brother's a wizard, he's with Lily and Hugo Weasley...I think."

"Ah." He said leading me to the older woman. "This is my wife, Molly."

She shook my hand, "Call me Grandmum Weasley, please. Everyone here does, even these little ones, and I'm not related to them at all! And he's Grandpa Weasley, I'll warn you though, you shouldn't have let on you were a muggle."

"It's nice to meet you Grandmum Weasley."

"Now, then young girl." Grandpa Weasley said sitting down in his rocking chair. "You have to tell me. How _do_ those airplanes stay up?"

"Uhhhh…" I spent the next ten minutes trying to explain what I knew about gas, thrust and gravity. I didn't really understand what I was talking about and neither did Grandpa Weasley so it turned into a sort of group speculation with Grandma Weasley explaining some basic magic terms to me.

Soon Alice looked like she's about to cry again. Quickly I reached into my purse and pulled out a volume of Christmas stories I had brought in case I got bored. I opened up to Dr. Seuss' _The Grinch Who Stole Christmas_.

"Want to hear a story?" I asked.

That got her attention. That was what I loved about good stories, they were universal. I sat on the floor and several of the kids, Alice included, sat around me. Even though they'd never heard of a Who or the Cat in the Hat and I had to explain that the Grinch was a Grinch, not a discolored goblin, they enjoyed the story. By the end the dark haired twin I've identified as Lorcan was on my back, Alice and little girl called Charlotte were on my lap, and about six others were on their bellies, staring up at me.

"That was just fantastic." Very eloquent four-year-old Lorcan. "I'll have to ask Mum and Dad to search for a Grinch on their next safari."

"What's Who Hash, anyway?" A black boy of about eight asked me.

I wrinkled my brow. "I don't know, some sort of canned food they eat, I guess." I realized just then how much I missed this: being a big sister. Damian was always at Hogwarts now, not to mention a bit too big to be mothered and I missed taking care of little kids. I was about to start a game with them when a brown and red head appeared in the door. It was Fred.

"You! Isabelle! I've been searching for you." He crossed the room in two strides and pulled me into a standing position. "Happy Christmas to you all, I'm sure Blondie here was happy to play 20 Qs with Grandpa Weasley and babysitter with the kids, but she's got bigger fish to fry!"

I protested the whole time he pulled me out of the playroom. "Where are you taking me?"

"The loo of course, Blondie."

"Don't call me Blondie, I hate nicknames."

"What about Iz or Izzy or Belle?"

"Isabelle. That's it."

"Whatever you say, Blondie." There was something of a crowd forming and, to my chagrin, Fred dragged me to the front of it shouting, "Guests first! Non-family members first!"

"Hey that means me!" the blonde boy who had been hexed shouted out. He seemed perfectly fine now, but looked put out.

"You don't count Scorpious." Someone called out. "You're basically a Weasley-Potter, admit it!"

The slightly familiar black haired boy clapped him on the back. "Yeah, you're related to Teddy by blood and everything! Teddy's my Dad's godson so… you're a Potter, Scor."

"Just wait till my Father hears about this." He growled back. He didn't really seem angry though, I guessed it was some sort of inside joke.

The banter was interrupted when a tall, broad middle-aged redhead man walked out of the bathroom, wand in hand. He was soaked from head to toe and looked like a purple fish man who got in a bar fight.

"I am a professional Curse-Breaker at Gringotts and that toilet gave **me** a headache!" He called out, his voice steely with anger. No one seemed alarmed though, they took his fury in stride. "**No one**, especially not a niece or nephew of mine, should know hexes like that! When I find out who did this I will personally place a memory charm on him that will give him the magical knowledge of a first year!"

"But, Uncle Bill, what if it was a first year who cast it?" Fred called out.

Fred's Uncle Bill turned to look at him and I got the full blast of his glare. His face was scarred very badly and I can't say he wasn't intimidating. "Have any information on the perpetrator, Fred? Because if you do…"

"Just speculation, and aren't you late for the adult's get-together?" Fred asked.

Somewhere behind me someone called out. "Yeah, get out of here Uncle Bill! This is the young people's party!"

Bill turned to look at the gathering of kids from around 10 to 21. "You're not going to get rid of Uncle Bill, are you? Why the stories I could tell you… doesn't anyone want to hear about the time Uncle Harry arrived at my doorstep with a bleeding house elf?" Bill was grinning now and the smile had transformed his face. Maybe he wasn't as scary as I first thought.

"Dad! Stop embarrassing me!" groaned a pretty strawberry blonde girl beside me. She was about 17 and was standing next to some sandy-haired bloke I'm guessing was her boyfriend.

Bill waved his wand, drying himself and returning his appearance to normal while talking in a dramatic tone, "Well, I was just putting the finishing touches on a very complicated spell I was working on, one that would help ensure the Cottage's safety during the war and…"

"Hey, Bill!" A twenty-something boy with blue curly hair called out. "Better get to the party… OR ALL WILL BE LOST!"

"You don't want ALL TO BE LOST, do you Dad?" agreed a tall blonde girl who had her arm around the blue-haired bloke's waist.

Bill's grin widened, "All right, all right. Now that you have a working loo I'll let you kids be. Have fun and don't do something more dangerous than the feats of your predecessors. We'll just get jealous." With that there was a great crack and he apparated away.

About a dozen girls and half a dozen boys rushed for the loo at once and I started to back away, but Fred gripped my arm. "Hey! Non-clanners first, I won't have Aunt Hermione giving us that hospitality lecture again!" He bellowed.

Apparently that lecture was long and boring since the crowd more or less parted and I found myself nearly thrown into the loo. It wasn't a normal toilet though; once I was inside there were two doors, one marked 'M' the other 'W'. I entered the 'W' room and there were stalls and rows of sinks like in a school with the addition of several showers.

"What?" I asked to no one in particular.

"There are so many of us we downsized to one loo, dormitory style." A girl behind me said. "I'm Molly, Molly Weasley, Percy's first daughter and a 5th year." She said sticking out her hand.

I shook it. "I'm Isabelle Cross. So this is why you only have one loo?"

"Yup!" A bushy redhead said as she washed her hands. "Besides, evil things can happen to someone in the loo. Don't use the toilet alone. Just ask anyone's parents."

"Oh. Okay." I was a little confused by that comment, but decided not to ask.

"I'm Rose by the way. Ron and Hermione's daughter and a 2nd year. And no matter what my insufferable little brother says, **no one** calls me Rosie anymore."

"Except for a certain Slytherin." Molly said in a sing-songy voice.

"Shut up, Molly. I never should have told you."

Not wanting to get caught up in family strife, especially when it was such a magical family, I excused myself and used the loo.

When I exited things had returned to normal. Well, as normal as things could be. There were sparks flying here and there. A group was sitting on the floor playing some sort of game involving green/gray goo. There were cats meandering about and tables upon tables of food and nearly everyone was eating or drinking something. I noticed my original impression was wrong. The rooms were not occupied by age group, with young adults in the kitchen, older teens in the sitting room with the fireplace, younger teens in the second sitting room and kids in the playroom with Grandmum and Grandpa Weasley. Everyone was everywhere. The age groups were completely mixed up, with a nine year old playing chess against the blue-haired bloke (they looked evenly matched too), twelve year olds conversing with fifteen year olds, a long line of girls braiding each other's hair including older teens, tweens and even a few toddlers. One thing was for sure, this Weasley family was like no one I had ever seen before…even excluding the magic.

Eyeing some particularly yummy looking biscuits, I was about to make my way to the buffet tables when I hear an all too familiar and all too surprising voice.

"Isabelle Miranda Cross."

I turned. And there he stood, in all his glory. Wand sticking out from behind one ear, rectangular glasses endearingly skewed, black hair messier than ever, so many freckles his skin wasn't really visible, and looking, all together, rather attractive. Fortunately I knew better than to be taken in by his charm. "James Sirius Potter."

"Pull any good pranks lately?"

"Yes, and you?"

He grinned mischievously "Yes, do you know what Quidditch is yet?"

"No. Do you know what football is yet?"

"No. And how can you not know what Quidditch is?! Where's your brother…? OI! Damian!" He called out. My little brother just happened to be running by and James stopped him. "Why is it that your sister still doesn't know about Quidditch?"

"Hullo James, Isabelle. Uh, I don't know, I told her about it."

"Wrong." I countered. "You mentioned it in the most unintelligible way possible. Besides Quidditch isn't the world's best sport, football is." Apparently I shouldn't have said that.

The next thing I knew I was surrounded by redheads, who were all talking over each other about broomsticks and waffles and sneetches and chasing and cannons and harpies.

Fortunately, or perhaps, unfortunately, Molly was in the crowd too. "Are you a muggle?" She asked.

I nodded.

"OI, you lot! She's a muggle! She doesn't know what she's saying!" Molly called out over the din.

"A muggle, really?" A redhead boy about my age asked. "Did you meet Grandpa Weasley, yet?"

"Yes." I replied.

The strawberry blonde girl I recognized from earlier looked put out, "Well that's too bad, did he ask about trousers again? Please tell me he didn't ask about trousers."

"No, no we talked about airplanes." This was really getting frustrating. I really didn't like being the center of attention.

"Hey, look, Teddy and Fred are getting out the fireworks!" Molly shouted. Apparently that was better entertainment than the muggle and the crowd dispersed leaving me alone with Molly and Jamie.

"Sorry about that one." Molly apologized. "We can get a bit, excited, you know."

"Don't worry about it, I'm just glad they didn't throw me out."

"Why? For not being a witch, Izzy?" James asked. "I really need to get you better acquainted with my family. After all I know everything about yours."

"Whatever, Jamie, you don't know a thing about me."

He took a step closer to me, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Well, we'll have to amend that won't we?"

I rolled my eyes. "You're a prat."

"And you love me!"

"You wish."

"No, I don't wish, I know." He frowned as though he was in pain and put a hand over his heart. "You're just in denial, Izzy. Either that or too in shock of my dashing good looks that I've addled your poor brains; you don't know what you're saying."

"Oh. I know exactly what I'm saying. You're a prat. And you're not even that good looking."

James flinched dramatically. "That hurt, Cross. That cut me deep."

I rolled my eyes again. "Prat."

Molly's eyes shifted from James to me and back to James. "Well, this is entertaining but I'm off to find Sam Jordan. James, make sure your girlfriends know at least the basics of Quidditch before you bring them around to meet the clan. Otherwise we may be scraping entrails off the walls."

It took a minute for me to recognize Molly's insinuation. "Heavens no, I'm not his girlfriend!"

Molly's eyes flashed with anger and I felt like hiding behind the sofa. "James Sirius Potter! How many times do we have to tell you: no one but serious boyfriends or girlfriends can come to the Burrow parties! You really are a prat. If you want to womanize that's fine with me, but don't make the whole family suffer from rumors started by some girl you never planned on learning the middle name of."

"Hey, I know this one's middle name!" James replied smoothly.

I scoffed in disgust. Molly didn't think I was James' girlfriend, she thought I was some sort of slag! "I'm not James' anything! I'm only here for my little brother."

Molly looked at me. "What?"

"I'm not James' new bird. My little brother is Damian Cross, Hugo's and Lily's classmate. I'm just here to, I don't know, travel with him."

The fire faded from Molly's bright blue eyes. "Oh. Sorry about that. I really didn't mean to insinuate anything about your character. Truly sorry, but when you've got so many celebrities in one family we have to be careful. I'm sure you understand."

I nodded, even though I didn't really understand at all.

"Well, I'll see you around Iz, but I really should find Sam."

"See you around, and don't call me Iz, my name's Isabelle."

"Okay then, Isabelle." She said and disappeared into the mass of partying Weasleys.

I glared at James. "Thanks for the help, mate."

"What?"

I rolled my eyes and lowered my voice a few octaves, "'I know this one's middle name.' Are you serious, James?"

"Nope. I'm James Sirius. Can't you keep my name straight? I don't go around calling you Miranda Isabelle, now do I?"

I scowled. "Whatever, I can't believe she thought I was dating you."

"Well, would you like to?"

"Like to what?"

"Date me. Go out with me Izzy."

"No thanks, I'd rather be eaten by a dragon."

"Well I think I could arrange that. Granted it'll take awhile to get a letter to Uncle Charlie in Brazil but…"

"Whatever. I'm hungry, Jamie. Go away."

I made my way to the buffet table, successfully stepping on three people's toes, banging elbows with several others and crushing seven cat's tails. Unfortunately James saw the need to follow me.

"What if it was a Quidditch date, Izzy? Would you go with me to a Quidditch match?"

"I don't want to date you, mate." I said taking a bite of pie. "But this pie is delicious."

"Yeah, Grandmum Weasley's cooking is the best. And that's the second time you've called me 'mate.'"

"Well we are mates, aren't we?" I said raising an eyebrow. "I mean we write each other at least once a month, you saved me and my brother's lives, and we've greeted each other every time we see each other since we were seven!"

"So you'll go out with me."

"No. We're mates, I told you that, and mates don't date each other." I said, allowing James to lead me to an unoccupied sofa.

"Tell that to Rose's Mum and Dad."

"What?"

"Nothing but speaking of parents how is your Dad doing?"

"He's fine, he's working a lot though. James, what're you doing here anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why are you here, are you, like friends with Hugo's sister Rose?"

"Rose is my cousin."

"Wait, _what_? You're a Potter – Daeda is your cousin!"

James laughed right out loud, "I'm a Weasley too, though."

"So… you're related to _all_ these people."

"Not _all_ of them!"

"Argh! Please explain your family to me, it's bloody confusing!"

"Now, now, watch your language."

"I mean it! Your family is so complex it deserves an expletive."

"Alright fine, it probably does. But you'll lose track if I just tell you, so… OI! WEASLEYS AND PSEUDO-CLANNERS! GET BY FAMILY!"

There was a great groan from about half the room as everyone stood up and started arranging themselves in groups ranging from one to three people. Damian moved from the corner of the room where he had been eating and sat next to me on the sofa.

"This isn't necessary." I whispered to James as the sitting room was invaded by people from the other rooms. Some of them formed their own groups while others added to preexisting ones.

"Nonsense, Izzy, this is the best way to introduce you to everyone too!" He turned to his family, "All right ladies and gents, this is Isabelle and Damian Cross. Damian's a first year Gryffindor with my sister and the rest of the eleven-year-olds. Isabelle is the nicest and most knowledgeable muggle you could ever meet!" There was a great chorus of "Hullo Isabelle and Damian" and James started introducing everyone.

"So you met Grandma and Grandpa Weasley. They had seven children, my Mum and her six brothers. First brother, Bill – he was the one who fixed the loo. He married a French witch called Fleur. They have Victoire, Dominique and Louis." The collection ranged from a nineteen or twenty-year-old blonde witch, the seventeen year old strawberry blonde witch, and a red haired boy who looked a little older than I. "Next there's Uncle Charlie, an old bachelor in Brazil with only dragons to keep him company. Then there's Uncle Percy, he and Aunt Audrey live right here in the Burrow throughout the year with Grandmum and Grandpa and their lot: Molly, Lucy, Owen, Amelia, Oscar and Charlotte." All of Percy's children were redheads and two-year-old Charlotte seemed to be the youngest one in the entire family. "Next is Uncle Fred – he runs the joke shop. He and Aunt Angelina have Fred, Roxy, Makai and Chloe." I assumed from these cousins dark-skin that Aunt Angelina was black. "Then we have Uncle Ron, he and Aunt Hermione have the smallest following, Rose and Hugo – but we don't hold that against them. Then finally, there's the wonderful Potters – the best thing that happened to this commonplace family. Really it's because of my Dad that-"

"Get on with it James!" James' brother complained loudly.

"All right, all right. My Dad, Harry Potter, married the youngest Weasley, Ginny and they gifted the world with me."

"Ahem!" His brother coughed loudly.

"Oh yeah, and that's my kid brother Al and my sis Lily. I'm sure you've seen them around Daeda's but now you've got names for the faces." James finished. The three of them really looked similar. Al and James looked almost identical except that Al had no freckles to speak of and James had vibrant blue eyes while Al's looked like green gemstones. Lily shared James' eyes and freckles but she had red hair like most of her extended family. All of the Weasley-Potters looked like natural athletes.

I looked at the crowd again and noticed quite a few people not mentioned. "Who are they?" I asked motioning to the blue-haired boy and the blonde I knew to be Scorpius.

"I'm Teddy Lupin." The blue haired bloke said. "And don't be alarmed, I'm a metamorphmagus; I can change my appearance." He changed his hair from blue to green to pink and back to blue in a matter of seconds. Completely cool. "And this is Scorpius, or Scor, Malfoy. Our Grandmothers are sisters, we kind of half grew up together."

"And are you Weasleys?" I asked.

James shook his head. "Teddy is Dad's godson. When Ted wasn't with his Grandmum, he lived with us or Uncle Bill sometimes."

I nodded, trying to get everything straight in my mind. "And them?" I pointed to a collection of toddlers who had gotten bored and were now wrestling in the corner.

"The twins are Lorcan and Lysander Scamander. Their mum, Aunt Luna, was mum's best friend in school, they have baby sister is Freya, but she's with her Mum. And Frank and Alice are Uncle Neville's kids. He was one of Dad's best mates. So not related to us, but still considered family. And anyone else you see is probably a friend of the family or a guest, I think there are some Lees and Shaklebots running around, a couple of McMahon's too. But they're not really considered part of the clan – if you catch my meaning."

I didn't really, but the small collection of others not mentioned didn't seem to mind being deemed 'non-clanners.' A thought occurred to me. "Wait, what about Daeda? Where does he fit in?"

"He's not a Weasley. Daeda is my Dad's cousin's son. This lot is all my Mum's side." James turned to his family again. "Thanks a bunch all, now back to your regular lives."

The crowd dispersed and, though my head hurt, James took out his wand and waved it, creating a family tree. He showed exactly how Teddy and Scor were almost nearly related to him through someone marrying someone else. He told me all about this horrid family called the Blacks and how they had one good kid: Sirius, his namesake. Then he brought up some wizard named Snape and another called Dumbledore. Then he told me the full names of everyone's grandparents and how _they_ all knew each other too. Then he explained that the Shaklebots were _not_ the Minister's kids, but great-nieces and nephews, as if I kept track of who _their_ minister was. By the end my head felt like it was about to explode and I'd heard more repeated names than I could stand.

"So everyone's just named after their dead Dad? Do wizards and witches have no sense of creativity?"

"No need to get feisty Izzy. Besides it was a **war**. Of course our parents wanted to commemorate the fallen."

"What was the war even about? I've heard about it but never gotten a clear answer from anyone."

James ran a hand through his hair and looked around the room. "Look over there, see Damian?"

Damian was playing some sort of game with exploding cards with a few other kids his age. They were passing around a burlap bag and eating something out of it. I couldn't tell what it was though; each reaction is different: from disgust to enjoyment to surprise. "Yeah."

"Do you like that he's a wizard?"

"Well I can't do much about it can I? But yeah, especially after… you know, I'm really happy he's a wizard. He has place where he fits in and receives the care he needs. He loves it."

"Well there was this evil, powerful wizard named Tom Riddle. He called himself Lord Voldemort and if it was up to him your little brother would be dead for using magic."

"What? Why?"

"First, he's muggleborn. Second because of his… furry little problem."

"You're not serious?"

"I am."

"But, I mean, everyone hated him, right?"

James sighed. "Some, like my family, did. Others agreed with him, but not his methods, and others… well he had quite a following."

"So…?"

"So my Dad and a bunch of others fought back. Tom Riddle had fortified himself so he was nearly invincible. Dad made sure he was made mortal and when Riddle and he dueled for the last time Dad survived, Riddle didn't."

"It sounds like World War II and Hitler with a more epic ending."

"Who?"

"An evil man who thought the Arian race was better than everyone else back in the 40s. He sounds a lot like your Voldemort."

"Well, enough about boring history!" James said, but there's a somberness in his blue eyes that assures me he doesn't see his history as boring at all. "Will you go to a Quidditch match with me?"

"Jamie…"

"Jamie?!" A voice said behind us. Suddenly Fred is sitting between us with his arms thrown around us. "Can **I** call you Jamie?"

"No." James replied flatly. "Izzy this is-"

"Oh, Blondie and I have already been acquainted. Quite a looker you brought this year James, has she passed Molly's standards yet? I swear she's worse than Grandmum Weasley!"

"I'm not his girlfriend, Fred." I said shoving his arm away. "You know that, I'm just Damian's sister."

"Oh yeah, the sister of the little first year James writes _all_ the time!" He said wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Don't worry I'll help you steer clear of Molly. That witch can be a real pain in the arse."

"Whatever, Fred. James, tell your cousin that we're not together."

"Fred, we're not together yet." James replied flatly.

"Yet?" I scoffed. "Try we're never, ever getting together, like, ever!"

"Playing hard to get?" Fred commented. "It'll be good for James' ego."

"I'm not playing hard to get, I'm playing impossible to get."

"Even better." Fred replied.

James fiddled with his glasses. "You know I actually think it's kind of hot when girls do that… you know, try and delay the inevitable. Don't worry, Izzy, I'm a patient guy."

"Ugh. Boys disgust me!" I got off the couch and decided to return to the nursery. Babies could get boring, but at least they're not seductive.

I only made it to the kitchen when Molly stopped me. "Over here, Isabelle." She called out and I nervously made my way over to her. She was sitting around the fire with Rose, a black boy she introduced as Sam, the boy called Louis and James' sister Lily.

"Oh! It's so good to meet you!" Lily said and hugged me. "Damian is just about the nicest boy I know."

"So how'd a nice muggle like you get mixed up with our nutty cousin? I've been wondering that this whole night." Louis said eyeing me.

I groaned. "I'm just here for my little brother! James and I know each other because Daedalus Dursely is my neighbor! Why does everyone keep thinking we're together?"

"Oh, it's nothing against you." Sam said, "It's more of a slam against James. He's just like that, you know?"

I found this information rather... disconcerting. James had never struck me as a ladies man. But then again all of our previous encounters had been on-on-one. What if James was secretly one of those boys who acted like a total prick in public - I wouldn't put it past him. "Ok, fine. But still I didn't even see him till after the loo was fixed, if we were dating we would've been together the whole time."

"Yeah, but he was asking everyone if they'd seen an Izzy for about half an hour before that." Rose said. "We just assumed, you know, Isabelle, Izzy."

Well that was an interesting tidbit of information. Especially considering that I didn't know he would be here but he obviously knew I was. "No, that was me. He calls me Izzy, the prat. I just don't see why he'd be looking for me."

"To ask you out to the Quidditch match on Sunday, of course!" James said sitting next to me. "You can't reject me now, not with all these sports-lovers as witness."

I sighed. This was getting annoying. "I can and will reject you; and may these kind witches and wizards serve as my witnesses, so you won't ask me again!"

"James!" Lily interjected. "You are an embarrassment to humanity! How many times have you asked the poor girl?"

"Five." I replied. "With four insinuations."

James raised his eyebrows, "You're keeping track, Izzy. That's hopeful."

"Whatever, Jamie, I'm never going out with you."

"C'mon, Izzy! Louis help me out here, she doesn't even know what Quidditch is!"

"What?!" Lily and Sam exclaim in unison.

Louis starts rambling in French and then seems to catch himself. "Go out with him, Isabelle. He's not a bad bloke once you get to know him."

"You're being ridiculous." Molly said, punching Louis and James playfully. "Isabelle, would you like to join the clan at a Quidditch match this Sunday?"

"Holyhead Harpies vs. Chudley Canons!" Lily crowed. "There's sure to be bloodshed in the Clan."

"I don't know anything about harpies or a chudley." I said hesitantly

James replied with vehemence. "Weasley's traditionally back the Cannons but there's been division since my Mum played for the Harpies before my parents were married. They're an all witch team and Aunt Angelina played for them too."

I nodded "Okay, so it's sort of like a player from Man City married into a clan of Manchester United fans? Shouldn't that be impossible?"

"Sure, whatever you say…" Molly said. "It'll be loads of fun… the adults will be there but-"

"Really?" I exclaimed. "I want to meet your parents."

"Then it's settled, you're coming." Molly said, "As my guest – not James' date."

James looked put out so I patted him on the back. "No worries, Jamie. At least I'm coming." Then I realized something important. "Hey, if I'm going to learn what Quidditch is, you have to learn what football is!"

James wrinkled his nose. "No, I don't think so."

"Yes, I think so. I'll get us tickets to a real professional game – it'll be the best!"

He grinned crookedly. "Will it be a date?"

"Enough with the dates! Why do you keep asking me out anyway?"

"Mostly because it's annoying you." James replied. "Anyone up for Exploding Snap?"

"You're on!" Sam replied. "I'll get Fred… playing with him is the best!"

As Sam dealt the strangest looking deck of cards I'd ever seen, Molly explained the game to me. It was pretty simple but she had to repeat herself twice because I was distracted by what James said, _mostly because it's annoying you._

That was good right? James and I are mates and I like hanging out with him but I don't really know him too well, do I? Either way I don't want to go out with him or anyone for that matter! So now I know him asking me out was some sort of weird joke. This was perfect, but why do I feel just the tiniest bit disappointed? _You're 14 and just desperate for attention from blokes even though you don't want to act on that attention yet. _I told myself. _This is quite pathetic, but understandable and not anything big, now play the game!_

Later James and I were on a sofa and he was using his wand to heal the burns on my fingers and jumper.

"That game is crazy!" I told him.

"Yeah, but you did well for a first timer."

"I look like I was pulled out of a burning building!"

"Naw, you look fine… better than Fred anyway." It was true; Fred's robes were so burnt that Molly told him they were beyond repair, even with magic. "So, I'm curious," James said, sticking his wand behind his ear, and mussing up his hair "You always mention these pranks you do, but I can't see how a prank can be good without magic."

"Well someone's stuck up and close-minded." I retorted. "Okay, for example, last day of term I hijacked the school's sound system so in between announcements pieces of Adele's newest hit chimed in."

"I think I'd be impressed if I understood a word of that."

I sighed. The vast majority of my letters to him this term had been explaining technology for his muggle class and it seemed like actually being with him wasn't going to change that. "In the school we have speakers so you can hear the Headmaster through the whole school. I got my pal Jack to help me out so that in-between his announcements about the Holidays and all that, Adele would sing a few lines of 'Found You.'"

James burst out laughing, "That's actually really good, Izzy! I just thought you were kidding about being a prankster!"

"There are two things I never joke about: pranks and sports."

"Agreed."

"So, what's your latest prank?"

James grinned crookedly, "I don't need to tell you about that one… you were here for most of it."

"The toilet?" I whispered.

James nodded solemnly.

"But your Uncle Bill said those hexes were really advanced!"

"Well, I'm a talented wizard." James said smugly.

I rolled my eyes. "So you cursed the toilet. That's pretty funny. I've thought about doing something of the sort before. But then it just gets too messy. We don't have magic to clean up sewage easily. Plus, imagine the stink."

James wrinkled his nose again, "Yeah. But you don't mind if I steal your idea about the music, do you?"

"Not at all."

"I'll have to tweak it, we don't have a, a, a sound-system, at Hogwarts. But I'm sure Fred and I can think of something. Oi, Fred! Code Neg One!"

"You had an inspiration?" Fred said, once again sitting between us.

"Yup, Iz, tell Fred what you did."

I took a drink of pumpkin juice and repeated my story. Fred's eyes grew huge as I described everyone's reactions: Headmaster Whitehead's fury, the faces of the faculty and how the Head Girl had to clap her hand over her mouth to keep from singing along. By the end all three of us were laughing heartily.

"Oh, can you imagine McGonagall's face? And Uncle Neville, I mean, Professor Longbottom, will be sure to laugh." Fred looked at me with a sense of reverence. "Blondie, you're brilliant, will you marry me?"

I laughed at Fred's joke as James punched him. We talk some more about different pranks we've pulled in the past and different penances we've had to perform due to our brilliant feats. It started out as a friendly comparison, but soon turned into a 'my horse is bigger than your horse' between James and I.

"Have you ever had to confound an ancient caretaker to keep from being caught?" he asked.

"I don't even know what that means!" I replied hotly. "Besides, the best pranks take ingenuity, not just wiggling a wand and spouting Latin phrases."

"Have you not been listening? Our pranks take a **lot** of ingenuity! And we don't cheat using your technological-ly"

Fred sat up straighter so there's more space between us and interjected. "Hey, pals, it's no big deal, we all like doing pranks and-"

We glared at him and he withered like a daisy in the fall. I shifted my glare to James. "I don't cheat using _technology, _I use it to my advantage; but it certainly doesn't do all the work! Unlike a certain wand I could mention."

"Forking some jerk's lawn, or whatever, isn't even a real prank anyway, it's just annoying."

"And jinxing talking, moving paintings to make farm animal noises is any better?"

"Well at least I didn't single anyone out there."

"Yeah, you never single people. Cause you didn't admit to vanishing the hair of your cousin's ex-boyfriend."

"The git deserved it! Dominique was just too nice to admit it!"

Fred interrupted, trying to bring peace between us. "Hey, Dom broke up with him, not the other way around…you were just jealous because he beat you at Quidditch."

"Shut up, Fred!" James and I said at the same time.

"I could totally out-prank you, James Sirius Potter."

"I'd like to see you try, Isabelle Miranda Cross."

"Oh, yeah? You're on!" I stuck out my hand. "Prank War?"

"Prank War…but you can't use magic"

"Good thing I don't need it! But you can't use any muggle technology."

"You only wish that was a temptation for me."

"Fred, you're witness to this!" I said. "So you'll be judge."

"Please don't drag me into this." Fred whimpered. James glared at him and Fred coughed, "I mean, sure. I'd love to!"

"No bribing the judge, Jamie." I told him.

"Right back at you, Izzy. So who's going first?"

"I will, I suspect you'll need your rest after hexing the loo. I mean it was a halfway decent prank, so you're probably exhausted."

"You wish, but sure… ladies first, you'll need all the help you can get."

"Good." Still fuming I looked around. Things had calmed down a bit and when I looked out the window I saw the near-full moon high in the sky. I jumped off the sofa.

"Pete's sake! It's late! Damian will be exhausted, I have to get him home… what time is it anyway?"

"Calm down, Izzy, it's only half-past ten." James said.

"Don't 'Calm down, Izzy' me! You _know_ he needs extra sleep! He's sure to get a bad fever, and it's all your fault!" I started to search for my little brother. He was in the playroom with Daeda and a bunch of other Weasleys. They were listening to some sort of yarn from Grandpa Weasley.

"Damian, time to go! It's late."

"But Isabelle, Grandpa Weasley's telling us about when Nagini attacked him and he almost died in the Second War!"

"That's very nice; but say your goodbyes."

"Isabelle…" He whined.

"None of that! You're lucky I let you come at all."

"Fine. Bye everyone, Happy Christmas."

"Daeda, are you coming too?" I asked.

"Naw, Mum said I could stay the weekend here, but don't hesitate to use my fireplace."

"Oh, well then, happy Christmas." I said. I grabbed my bag in one hand, Damian's hand in the other and dragged him out.

We stood in front of the fireplace and I stared blankly at it.

"I'll get us some floo powder, Isabelle." Damian said cheerfully.

"You'll do nothing of the sort!" I replied, tightening my grip on his hand. I spotted Molly "Molly, would you mind helping us out? We need to floo home and…"

"Oh, of course." She said and disappeared into the kitchen. A few moments later she returned with a jar. "Are you leaving so early? At midnight the boys always reenact the War. It's always really funny."

"I'd love to, but we're leaving yeah. It's Damian, he can't stay out too late."

"Isabelle!" Damian groaned. "She's just being overprotective."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Isabelle."

"Maybe some other time, Molly."

"Please, Isabelle?" Damian begged.

Suddenly someone was standing next to me, it was James. "Sorry, Damian, but you probably should be getting home."

Damian and James make eye-contact and something passed between them. Somehow James had authority over my little brother and I wasn't sure if I liked it.

Damian sighed. "Happy Christmas, all. See you at Hogwarts." I realized that to Damian, these folks are like his family and his disappointment shoots a little shard of ice into my heart.

"Well, we'll see you again on Sunday." James said. "That is if your sister will keep her end of the bargain."

"I always keep my end of the bargain!" I replied sharply.

"Yeah, that's right." Molly said, giving Damian a hug. "You two are coming to the Quidditch match with us."

Damian eyes lit up, "Really?! Cannons vs. Harpies?! Awesome! I'm going too?"

James slapped Damian on the back. "Of course you're coming. It wouldn't be half as fun without you. But for now, you've got to get home and rest. After all, too much exposure to the Weasley-Potter Clan can have nasty side-effects and we won't pay the healer's bills."

"All right. This is awesome! I've never been to a professional Quidditch match!" Damian cheered.

I made him floo first and once he's gone Molly gave me a huge hug, wished me a happy Christmas and left.

"Thanks for that, Jamie." I said, granting his a smile.

"No problem, Izzy. See you on Sunday?"

"Yeah, I'll see you – wait! How will we get to the match? I don't want to use the Dursley's fireplace without Daeda there."

James ran a hand through his messy black hair, making it stick up all the more. "The match starts at one. The port-key leaves at noon. I'll come pick you up at 11:30. Sound good?"

"Um, are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, besides, who else knows where your house is?"

"Well…"

"It's settled then!" With a final crooked grin he guided me into the fireplace and held out the jar of floo powder for me.

"Thank you again, James." I said.

"C'mon, what are mates for, Isabelle?"

I grinned and let go of the dust. "The Dursley's."

And even though my outfit was all sooty, I completely messed up my uptight neighbor's nice sitting room, and my little brother got to bed late just a week before the full moon, I smiled. Considering our odd exchanges of letters and short, weird and sporadic meetings, not to mention all that codswallop about dates and then the argument that led to the prank war, I had been confused about the extent of our... relationship. But now I was absolutely sure that James Sirius Potter was my mate. And honestly, I couldn't think of anything better.

* * *

**A/N Take 5: I promise I'll shut up after this, 40 REVIEWS?! you guys rock! Seriously give yourselves a pat on the head from me and go eat some cookies and yummy chocolate because it's Fat Tuesday (or Mardi Gras) and because you ROCK!**

**Best Wishes,**

**Gwen**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Quidditch Match**

James had almost everything a nearly 15 year old wizard could want. He had a brilliant and enormous family. He had his own room at homein which he could hide when his awesome family got tiring. He had the latest Nimbus model. He had the Marauder's map. He had good grades. He had the 4th most detentions at Hogwarts. He was Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. He had a posse of giggling girls that followed him around. He had _awesome_ hair. And he had tickets to the Cannons v. Harpies match. At that moment, James figured there were only two things he did not have. The first was too confusing to think about, so he decided he would ignore the fact that he didn't have her - ahem, _it_ and just go collect _it _instead. The second was a Marauder's Map for the Burrow.

As he snuck through his Grandparents home he thought, for at least the hundredth time, how handy it would be to have a Marauder's Map for the Burrow. He'd been trying to figure out how to do it since 2nd year when he got his hands on the map for good but so far hadn't met with any luck. Sirius' portrait hadn't been any help either. So he was left to his own devices, skirting around aunts and uncles, hiding in corners to avoid cousins and friends, sneaking through sitting rooms and past the kitchen, ducking behind trees and avoiding gnomes until he was finally outside behind the shed.

Now no one would be the wiser that he was _not _in the boys' room asleep behind the bed curtains. Wizarding Law had gotten more lax when it came to underage magic. After the war many parents had chosen homeschooling over Hogwarts and thus it became hard for the ministry to keep track of who was allowed to use magic at home and who wasn't. So they merely became more lenient, most simple charms and spells were ignored but something like a Patronus, complex transfiguration or more dangerous hexes were looked into. Of course underage Apparition was still very much illegal but James knew that the amount of magic being used around the Burrow would throw the Ministry off his tail. So the only thing he had to fear about this plan was his Dad, hence the sneaking around and ardent wishing for a Map for the Burrow.

_**Pop**__! Feeling of being stretched into putty. Feet hit the ground. __**Crack**__! Run hand through hair. Knock on door. Door opens. Smile winningly- _

"ARE YOU MAD?!"

"Er, what?"

Izzy looked good, but livid. She grabbed James by the arm pulled him into the house and proceeded to nearly throw him in the coat closet. James couldn't help but think what an interesting development this was. His thoughts were, unfortunately, interrupted by Izzy's yells.

"You can't just apparate here! Are you stupid?"

James rolled his eyes. For being a self-proclaimed prankster queen it sure was easy to get her knickers in a bunch. "Isabelle, it's fine. I won't get hurt and I won't get caught so stop acting like my Mum."

She looks confused. "What are you on about? Anyone could see you out there, Jamie, it's dangerous!"

James sighed. "Listen, Izzy, it's only illegal to prevent untalented prats from splinching themselves and-"

"What? No! I don't care if it's legal or not! I care about my neighbors seeing you and going into cardiac arrest!" She grabbed the back of his neck and thrust his head into the closet. "You see this room, Jamie? It's the apparition room. Take a good long look! If you want to apparate here, fine, but use the room please!" Well that was a surprising reaction.

The 'Apparition Room' as she called was really quite clever. It was a closet big enough for two people to stand shoulder to shoulder comfortably. There was a lock on the door that looked magical and a sign with her address and beneath it read "Welcome to the Cross Family Residence, Witch/Wizard. Please ring the bell' with an arrow pointing to a doorbell.

"Cool." Was all James could think to say.

Isabelle let go of him (he was sure she had left grip marks on his arm and neck) and glared at him. "Well?"

"Er, sorry?"

"Forgiven." She grinned. "Good to see you again so soon, Jamie."

"Good to see you too." James replied slowly. Being with Isabelle was like playing Quidditch. Keep your eyes on everything, don't get distracted, follow your gut, no mistakes, you score and cheer, you fumble and hate yourself, don't stop to smell the roses because there's a bludger coming at you, zip around, pass, catch, dodge, shoot, hope you score more than you miss but you never can know. It was exhausting and exhilarating at the same time and overall left him with a lot to think about.

"Would you like tea? Damian will be a while, he just took his meds a little bit ago and needs some time before he can travel. Come to the kitchen, they're all in there."

The Cross' house was nice. Medium sized, modest and tidy. Off the entryway was a staircase leading to a second floor, a sitting room and a hall which James and Izzy followed to the kitchen. Damian, Tasha Prewitt and Mr. Cross sat at the kitchen table drinking tea, eating fudge and Mr. Cross perused _the Prophet _with wide eyes.

"Hullo, James." Mr. Cross greeted him with a firm handshake.

"Hullo, Mr. Cross. It's been a while."

"That it has. Sit down, enjoy some of Isabelle's fudge while it's here. She doesn't bake much and the universe is worse off because of it."

"But your diet is better off because of it." Isabelle comments airily getting out a mug for James' tea.

"I'm a picture of health." Mr. Cross protests.

"Tell that to your gut." Isabelle replies. "You're getting pudgy, ask Tasha, she'll agree with me."

James noticed that Tasha's ear went a little pink. "I have no comment in this matter."

Everyone grinned. "But really James," Damian said. "Eat the fudge. Now."

James took a chocolate square and popped it into his mouth. It was better than they had made it out to be. It was like chocolatey utopia right there in his mouth and James had to be careful not to drool. He looked at Isabelle with a newly found admiration and fondness. "I didn't know anything could taste like that. How did I live before? How?"

Isabelle smiled blithely and served him tea. "In depression. It's like getting a new internet server... or a new pair of glasses. You realize that you were wallowing in misery and didn't even realize it."

James nodded vigorously and took another square of fudge. And another. And another. "You should bring some today. Teddy would love you forever if he tasted this."

She shook her head. "I don't think so. Like they said, I don't really like baking so..."

"Come on Izzy, you're fantastic at this. People like doing what they're good at. I'm sure Grandmum Weasley would love to swap recipes with you, Aunt Audrey too, and I'm sure if you made Treacle Tart Dad would just-"

"James, no." She replied firmly. "I don't like baking. I do it around the holidays more, but... no."

"Why not?"

"I just don't like baking!"

And if being with Izzy really was like a Quidditch match this would be the point when your fellow chaser starts playing like a blast-ended skrewt and you have no idea why. "Fine, fine. It's getting late, you two ready to go?"

Damian nodded. "I'm good now."

"Have fun you three." Tasha said.

"When will you be back?" Mr. Cross asked.

Shoot. James hadn't thought about this. "Well, er, good question. Normally we have a big family dinner afterwards and Izzy and Damian are totally invited to that. But considering it's that time of the month and all... How about I get them back here by half past nine tonight?"

Mr. Cross nodded. "Sounds good to me. Stay safe, stick together and listen to the Potters."

"That's a will do, Dad." Isabelle kissed her Dad on the cheek and led James and Damian to the entry room. She was wearing muggles clothes again, which James couldn't help but find it odd. He'd never really seen girls in anything but skirts or robes and Izzy was wearing trousers that hugged her legs and flat brown boots that went up to her knees. James really didn't know what to think about the fact that her legs were basically on display for the world to see.

"Come on, magic boy. Let's get going." She jolted him out of his train of thought.

"Right, you've got coats and mittens and all that? Good. Quidditch matches can get long." James walked into the closet and stood beside Isabelle so their shoulders were brushing and Damian stood in front of them. "Both of you grab my hand and stay still."

Side-along Apparition wasn't that different from solo-apparating. It simply demanded more attention and awareness of the 'passengers' so they remain whole. Unfortunately James forgot that Izzy and Damian weren't used to apparating and his landing was less than perfect. They both ended up on their butts and Izzy looked a little green.

"I hate apparating." She groaned waving away James' outstretched hand and got to her feet on her own.

"What's that? Who's there?" Granddad Weasley exited the shed and James just _knew _he heard that crack of them apparating.

"Um, listen Granddad Weasley..." He began.

"No, no. I don't want to know. I'm done parenting, just Grandparenting now and that means that since all of you are in one piece I can go back to my sparkplugs."

James grinned. "Course, Granddad, but you know the Port-key leaves at noon, we've got ten minutes."

"Merlin! We better get going!" with that Granddad Weasley grabbed James in one hand and Isabelle in the other and raced toward the field behind the Burrow. "Hullo by the way and welcome, Isabelle and Damian." Granddad called over his shoulder.

"Hullo." They both panted as they jogged to keep up with him.

"You're parents aren't coming?" Granddad asked, sounding disappointed. James was sure he was looking forward to meeting more muggles.

Izzy shook her head. "I think Dad and Tasha are looking forward to time without us around."

James hoped to Merlin that Granddad didn't ask about her Mum. Last time it was brought up he got a black eye and she didn't speak to him for years. But then they were in the backyard amongst all the chaos so it hardly mattered, she wouldn't have been able to hear him anyway. Everyone: Weasleys, Potters, Longbottoms, Scamanders, a Lupin and a Malfoy, along with a couple other guests were milling around the back field talking and chatting and trying to figure out which Port-key they belonged to. Uncle Percy was standing atop a large box and had magically increased his volume so he could be heard over the din.

"ATTENTION EVERYONE! PLEASE COME TO ORDER, WE DON'T WANT ANYONE LEFT BEHIND! SILENCE ALL!"

Once they were more or less quiet he resumed speaking in a normal tone. "Godric's Hollow Weasleys and guests have the soup can. Diagon Alley Weasleys have the doorknob. Longbottoms and Scamanders have the comb. Shell Cottage Weasleys and guests have the old shoe. And Burrow Weasleys and guests have the wooden box. Quickly, everyone, quickly."

"What was all that?" Isabelle asked, leaning closer to James.

"Well, us and Uncle Ron's lot are Godric's Hollow Weasleys, that's where we live. Uncle George lives in Diagon Alley, Uncle Bill in Shell Cottage and Uncle Percy, Grandmum and Granddad are Burrow Weasleys. Since most of us have the same last name, we call each other by where we live so that makes it easier. Come on, now, it's leaving soon."

"Wait, what's leaving imply?!" But James was already leading her and Damian through the crowd to where his Uncle Ron stood, towering over everyone.

"Come along, come along." Uncle Percy was saying. "Godric's Hollow present and accounted for?"

James looked around the soup can. Mum, Dad, Al, Lily, Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, Rose, Hugo, Scorpious, Damian... wait where was Isabelle?

"I'm missing my guest, Dad! Izzy?!" James called out.

"Over here, Jamie!" She called. She was standing next to Molly. _Molly! _"I'm going with Molly, remember?"

Oh yeah. That's right. She had rejected him. "But-" James began.

"Don't worry about it, James." His Dad interrupted him. "There's nearly too many on this port-key anyway. More fit on the box."

James nodded, waved at Izzy, who smiled and waved back, and then lay down and touched the old soup can.

"Brace yourselves." Uncle Ron warned us.

"Why?" Damian and Daeda ask in unison.

_Shit. _James thought to himself. _How could I have forgotten to explain things to them? How?! And Izzy doesn't know either, hopefully Molly will fill her in. She remembers things like that. Izzy will be fine, right?_

Out loud James says, "Touch the can, there'll be a jolt behind your navel and it will toss us out outside the Pitch. Try not to land on your arses."

James didn't see Isabelle again for another half hour when they were (finally) all seated in the Weasley Box - which wasn't really a box at all since those made watching the game so difficult, it was just three well placed rows that are kept reserved for his family.

"What've you got there?" He asked as took the seat next to her. She was scrutinizing a piece of parchment.

"Legal jargon. All these rules about what I can't say to whom about the stadium and Quidditch without setting a bunch of memory-charming aurors on all of England."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. But whatever. It's not nearly as strict as those contracts I had to sign with St. Mungo's and your ministry about... you know."

"Yeah." James nodded.

"So, are you going to explain this to me or just hope I catch on?"

"Oh, right Quidditch match, of course." James ran a hand through his hair. Quidditch was the whole reason they were there, how could he have forgotten? "Well it's pretty simple. You've got 7 players per team and four balls. The keeper who guards the hoops and three chasers who try and score by throwing the quaffle through the hoops with each goal as ten points. Then you've got your beaters which hit the two bludgers around trying to prevent the other team from doing anything. And lastly is the seeker, they try and catch the tiny winged snitch which is 150 points. Once the snitch is caught the game ends."

James was pleased to see Isabelle nodding intelligently and keeping up with him the whole time.

"So how long's a game lasted? I'm assuming here they can go on for ages if the snitch isn't caught."

It was official, Izzy was brilliant. "Three months."

"Nice. So, you play... wait, let me remember... chaser you said?"

"Yep. Molly and Dom are Chasers with me and Fred and Louis are our beaters and I found this great little second year called Ava Pond to be our seeker."

"And the keeper is that obnoxious bloke you hate, Mc-something or other."

"Yeah, that's right. McLaggen, a real git that one, you'd hate him. Why just last week in practice I was telling him..."

"James, shut it!" Molly said, reaching around Isabelle to smack him.

"What? I can't say it at school so I might as well get it out of my system." James raised his voice. "Callum Cormac McLaggen is..."

"Right there!" Molly hissed.

Wait, what? Sweet Merlin, he really was right there. Had he heard them? No, surely not.

"Hold it, _that's _Callum McLaggen?" Izzy asked.

James nodded, bending down and pretending to retie his trainer.

"He looks like a git. I thought you two hated each other?"

"We do, I just don't let it show because I'm a gentleman and he doesn't let it show because he's a prat."

"So that's why he's coming over here?" Izzy asked.

James' head shot up and he was looking directly at McLaggen. "Er, hullo McLaggen. Fancy seeing you here."

"And yourself, Potter. Mum's good friends with the Captain of the Harpies, got us seats for free she did."

James just nodded and hoped Callum would go away, why the hell was he here anyway?

"I'm looking for my sister you see." He said, finally explaining his awkward presence. "Been in the loo for quite some time now and I thought she may have come to chat with you, seeing as you two are..." McLaggen's eyes flicked towards Izzy. _Hell. _

"Don't know what you're talking about, McLaggen." James strived to remain gentlemanly. "This is Isabelle Cross, her younger brother's in Lily's year."

"Pleased to meet you, Isabelle. You don't attend Hogwarts do you?"

Isabelle, bless her, merely shook her head. "I'm a muggle you see. Damian's muggleborn."

"Ah. So you don't see much of James, do you?"

She smiled sweetly. "No, not as much as I would like. But I'm quite certain that the match will start soon and seeing as this is my first Quidditch match and you are rather large and obscuring my view, I'm asking you to leave."

McLaggen scowled then smirked. "Not a problem. See you later, James, and I'll be certain to mention to my sister that you're here."

Then McLaggen left, but not for his own seat, he strutted in the direction where Dom was sitting between two empty seats.

Molly chuckled. "Hopefully Dom won't run him off until Louis and Nate are back from fetching food. This could get good."

James smiled, Nate was Dom's latest boyfriend, he had been a beater when he was at Durmstrang and was planning on interning with Uncle Charlie in Brazil after the New Year. It would be funny to see McLaggen intimidated, especially after mentioning Isla...

His thoughts were interrupted by Izzy shivering next to him. "You were right, Jamie. What a prick. But who's his sister? I'm interested now."

James ran a hand through his hair. What to say, what to say? How to say it without sounding arrogant. How to make her see that it was all because of his Dad and his family anyway and had so little to do with him. How to not lie while keeping most of the truth hidden. And most of all not let her know that there was this part of him that liked it, that wanted it, that encouraged it because even though it _was _because of his Dad it also had to do with him because none of the other male cousins could claim the same thing.

"Er, McLaggen's little sister? Her name's Isla. She's in my year and, well, she's kind of... well, she's got this thing... for me, and is pretty obnoxious about it."

"Ah." was Izzy's reply.

Cue awkward silence.

She breaks the silence."Makes sense then."

"What does?"

"Him throwing his sister at you. First I was thinking, 'that's weird, he hates you, shouldn't he be steering his sister _away _from you?' but then since she's obnoxiously infatuated with you and he thought I was your long-distance girlfriend, or at least love interest, it makes sense that he would want her to embarrass you in front of me."

"Oh, well..." James felt his face heating up. How could she be so... indifferent about all of this? But then the match started and James got distracted by Isabelle's undiluted enthusiasm and wonder.

"Oooh! Look it's starting! WHOAH? How high can those brooms fly?!"

* * *

"I take back whatever I said before about Quidditch. That was bloody brilliant!" Izzy's blue eyes were on fire and her cheeks were flushed from cheering and the cold. "And the Holyhead Harpies are officially my team. I think I even got some Welsh blood so it's all good!"

James couldn't find it in him to be upset about the loss but he could still act like he was, "If Mahoney hadn't gotten lucky..."

"But she _did _Jamie and even if she hadn't Bohems is a completely bullocks at seeking so it wouldn't have mattered anyway."

"First, what do you know about seeking? Second, he's not that bad. Third-"

But Izzy interrupted him as they made their way out of the stadium. "First, after your fantastic commentary between the commentary I can consider myself a well-informed Quidditch fan. Second, Wilmot saw the snitch four times during the match! Four! And Bohems only spotted it when the beater pointed out that Wilmot nearly had her hands on it."

"Exactly, Wilmot was only able to catch it on her fourth try and it's never just about the snitch anyway."

"It is when your chasers and keepers are evenly matched. Hold on a mo, I want to use the loo."

"I'll wait, but hurry. Dad said the port-key leaves in 20 minutes."

"Right."

James had exactly thirty-five seconds to himself before _she _walked out of the loo. And no, it wasn't her, it was _her._

"JAMES!" She squealed and hug/tackled him. "I am SO happy Callum told me you were here! I honestly had NO IDEA how I was supposed to last until the start of term without seeing you!"

"Er, hullo, Isla. Yeah, you're brother mentioned you were... around."

Sh grinned at him toothily. "FANTASTIC weather today, wasn't it? Not too much wind. I absolutely HATE the wind - it always ruins my hair." She tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder.

"Good conditions for playing, that's for certain. It was a good match too. Who do you support, Cannons or Harpies?"

"NO, silly, I don't follow Quidditch." She replied, still grinning and James had to wonder if her cheek muscles ever grew tired - or if her vocal cords were damaged because she squealed or if she squealed because her vocal cords were damaged. "I'm just here because Mother wanted the house empty for preparing for the Christmas Party. Sports aren't ladylike you see."

"That's funny seeing as the Harpies are all women." A new voice said. It was Isabelle and she looked... well, not pleased that was for sure, in fact her expression was one he only ever seen on his Mother when the Press got carried away. Isabelle stuck out her hand. "Isabelle Miranda Cross. I'm a muggle friend of James'. You must be Callum McLaggen's little sister. I can see the family resemblance."

James had to hold back a snort remembering how Izzy had commented that Callum reminded her of a rhino. Besides Isla didn't look like rhino, she was more reminiscent of a... whatever kind of animal was average height and curvy... a vase?

"I'm Isla McLaggen, yes. Funny, I don't remember James ever mentioning you."

"Don't worry, there are lots of good things about being forgetful." Izzy said with a smile.

Whoah... did the temperature in the stadium just go waaaay down?

"Funny, that you think sports are unladylike though." Izzy continued. "Last term at my school the girl's team beat the boys team six to two in football."

"You misinterpreted me, I never said girl's were incapable of playing or playing well. I merely said it was unladylike. I mean, what proper young lady would choose all that filthy physical exertion? It's completely unnecessary for us to prove ourselves in that fashion."

"Interesting opinion there Isla, I wonder what James thinks about that. You know his mother and Aunt both played for the Harpies before they settled down. Not to mention he captains quite a few girls on his team, two of whom are his cousins."

They both look at him and Isla is looking a little pale. What the hell was going on? James wondered. Why did Izzy see the need to drag him into their estrogen battle?

"Um, er, well."

James was saved by the entrance of Fred. "Oi! James, Isabelle, Uncle Percy's going ballistic that you're not out there yet!"

James held back a sigh of relief. "See you at Hogwarts, Isla, okay?"

"See you." She pouted then turned to Isabelle. "It was nice to meet you."

"Nice to put a face to your name."

When they entered the stairwell James turned to go down the steps but Fred stopped him. "We've still got time, just thought I'd save you from the President."

James grinned and clapped his cousin on the back. "Thanks for that one mate - I owe you one."

Izzy wrinkled her nose, "Why is she the president?"

Crap. "Well," Fred began but James elbowed him in the ribcage.

"No reason, just a nickname. It would take too long for us to explain here... all sorts of Hogwart-y, magical world-y things to go into."

Fortunately Isabelle accepted this answer and while Fred looked confused and cocked his eyebrows up, James ignored him and he stayed quiet.

Isabelle leaned against the wall and grimaced. "You know today's my first time being glad I don't attend Hogwarts. I mean, if I had to share all my classes and a dorm with _her_..."

"Well you may not have had to, Blondie." Fred replied. "We have houses you know."

James and Fred spent the remaining time they had until they got to their port-keys explaining the houses (in the most unbiased ways possible, of course) and trying to decide which house Isabelle would belong if she _did _attend Hogwarts.

"I'm telling you, just because you enjoy a prank does _not _make you Slytherin." James told her for the tenth time.

"Then characterize them as something other than sneaky, Jamie."

"Wait, did we, or did we not rule out Ravenclaw?" Fred asked.

"We did," Izzy replied. "I hate school."

"But if you like sports that's totally a Gryffindor trait." Fred replied.

James shook his head. "Slytherins are sporty too. They're... I've got it. Slytherins are ambitious."

"I guess I'm ambitious." Izzy replied.

"Naw, Slytherins are moody." Fred said. "They deal with deep-seated angst, blondie and I doubt you've got any of that."

"So your cousins Al and Rose have deep-seated angst?" Izzy quipped.

"If they don't they will soon, believe me." Fred replied.

"I think she'd make a nice Hufflepuff." James decided.

Izzy laughed at the expression of horror on Fred's face and then scowled at him. "I thought you said those were the misfits?"

"Not really, Hufflepuff house will take anyone, but they've got a reputation for being the right kind of people - good mates. They're known for being dependable, loyal, willing to do anything for their family." James trained his eyes on her, hoping she'd get what he was alluding to.

Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. "Well travelling in that vein, I'd say I'm a Gryffindor. There's only one thing I'm afraid of."

"And what's that?" Fred asked casually.

"Hey, we better get to our port-keys or risk being left behind." James said quickly, leading Izzy toward where Uncle Percy stood counting his group.

"See you at the Burrow." James told her.

"See you there, and thanks."

"For what?"

"For taking me to a Quidditch match." She grinned and flounced off to stand by Molly.

Yes sir, if being with Izzy was like a Quidditch match this was when you're in a state of shock because you've won by ten points because your seeker caught the snitch at just the right moment.

* * *

Despite getting Damian and Isabelle back to home at 9:30 pm as promised James and the older cousins weren't actually banished to bed until close to one in the morning. Still, about an hour later, James was still awake replaying the evening in his head.

Izzy had done brilliantly at the family celebratory dinner, meeting every adult and acquainting herself with most of the clan. She had talked Quidditch like a lifelong fan, she had teased Al, Rose and Scor about having deep-seated Slytherin angst and she had convinced Teddy to take on the appearance of a sunburnt hippo. She had gotten on with his parents brilliantly, promising them that she would indeed come visit them in Godric's Hollow sooner rather than later. And after losing track of her he found her deep in conversation with his Mum. Neither one would reveal what they talking about calling it merely a 'confidential girl's chat.' Whatever that meant. But what had completely made the night was the official beginning of the prank war.

Under the pretense of figuring out what his prescription was Izzy had managed to hide his glasses from him for the majority of the meal, resulting in about 50 photographs of him trying to eat, converse and walk around without making a complete berk of himself - he failed. Alice finally took pity on him and returned his glasses in exchange for the last biscuit. James still had no clue where Izzy had kept them hidden nor who took the embarrassing photos. James had gotten her back though, by charming her hair to change color every time she laughed, needless to say she went through the entire rainbow in less than five minutes. He refused to perform the counter spell until she figured out the pattern.

At that point they had met with Fred to come up with rules for the war. The war would continue, back and forth with no skipping turns, until one of them was unable to best the other.

Izzy had seemed to take that as a challenge and used some sort of liquid-y muggle adhesive to stick his glass of pumpkin juice to his hand. He'd tried every spell and solution he could think of before begging Izzy to release him. She'd had him run his hand under warm water and it had come off, but he was still pulling tacky residue off his palms. James had retaliated before she left though, transfiguring her fork into a different animal every time she touched it. The look on her face was priceless and she was so upset that he returned it to its normal state whenever someone else was looking. And now she was gone, which was sad, but relieving at the same time. As he slowly drifted off he knew he didn't have to worry about being the target of her pranks for a while... _B_

_eep. Beep. Beep. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!_

"Bloody hell, what's that noise?!" Teddy groaned.

_B__EEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!_

"You hear it too? I thought I was going mad." Fred exclaimed as he pushed aside his bed curtains.

_BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!_

"It sounds elketrik." Louis whispered. "Oi. Daeda, is it yours?"

Daeda merely snored.

_BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!_

James groaned and got out of bed. "I was just falling asleep!"

_BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!_

"Whoever's idea this is of a joke, it's not funny!" Owen called from the younger boys' half of the large room.

_BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!_

"You can hear it all the way over there?!" Hugo whisper-yelled.

_BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!_

"Yeah!" Makai said tiptoeing to where the others were. "So cut it out before Oscar wakes up! It took forever for Aunt Audrey to get him down. Man it's louder over here."

_BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!_

"Sure it's not someone's wand malfunctioning?" Owen suggested.

_BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!_

Teddy shook his head and took out his wand. "_Lumos. _Where's it the loudest?"

_BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!_

"Over here!" Hugo and Al said at the same time, even though they were on opposite sides of the room.

After five minutes of the incessant _BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP! _drilling into their brains they finally decided it was coming from somewhere near James' corner of the room.

_BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!_

"I think it's... AH-HAH!" Al said triumphantly from under his brother's bed.

It was like a wristwatch, but had one of those muggle technology screens. It was glowing blue and the time - 2:17 am - was blinking in time with the _BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!_

"Ok how are we supposed to stop it?" Owen asked curiously.

"Know any good spells, Ted?" Louis asked with a yawn.

"Yeah. Sure I do." With that Teddy took the offending object, threw it to the ground and stomped on it until it was in pieces.

"What in Merlin's name was _that _about?!" Hugo asked, breaking the silence that had fallen upon the group of sleepy Potter-Weasley-Lupin males since the beeping ended.

"Um, this note came with it." Al said, handing a scrap of paper to James.

_Jamie - Best that! - Izzy_

James groaned and handed it to Fred so he could witness the latest move in the prank war.

Fred studied it for a moment then burst out laughing. "Wow, James. You've made quite the friend."

* * *

**A/N: **I hoped you enjoyed this, I enjoyed writing it. Except for McLaggens, they honestly were NOT supposed to show up in this chapter... self-important gits just decided to insert themselves into my work. On another note, just so y'all know, when you review/follow/favorite this I ALWAYS go to look at your profile and check out stories you have written/favorited, FYI.

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc. belongs to Rowling, no copyright infringement intended.**

**A/N II: EDIT - **after a nice review a realized that it wasn't mentioned if/how Izzy met Harry and Ginny and that was a HUGE mistake on my part. So now it's mentioned in James' nighttime musings. Not really a big difference, has no effect on the plot, but it really was necessary. No need to freak.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 12: Football Match**

"So who exactly is this bloke?"

"I told you, Sophie, he's my neighbor's second cousin and goes to that special Boarding school with Damian." I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"But he needs _you _to help him get dressed for a football match? He sounds weird." Sophie's one of my best friends but I was seriously regretting telling her about James. Of course it had been necessary to tell her in order to convince her to lend me the seasons tickets she had gotten for Hanukkah.

"I just want to make sure he's comfortable and at ease."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, so maybe he's a bit odd." I conceded. "But he's nice and I swore I'd take him to a match. What about these jeans... I mean they look average sized, that's good right?"

We're in her step-brother Max's room going through his closet. Since she and Max are the same age they share classes with me and Max is my best bloke friend.

"Isabelle." Sophie sighed. "You are hopeless. How you manage to clothe yourself, Dad and brother is beyond me."

"Just tell me whether or not these should fit him, they look normal and that's all he'll care about."

We're interrupted by the door opening and a very sweaty Max entering the room. He paused for a moment to take in the scene and then asked, in his truly brilliant Scottish accent. "Er, what are you two doing?"

I thought fast. A convincing lie always had slivers of truth. "A friend of mine from Damian's school is visiting tomorrow, we're going to a football match and he needs to borrow clothes, the trip's unexpected and he's only got his school uniform, you see."

"So you decided to steal clothes from me?"

I nodded.

"Is the bloke even my size?"

I cringed. "That's what we're trying to figure out...?" I say at the same time as Sophie asks, "God, Max, why do you smell like cattle?"

"Went for a run. Stopped by your house, Isabelle. Wanted to see if you'd join me but Tasha said you were out. Is she always at your house now?"

I nodded again. "Pretty much. Anyway, would you say your pants could fit any regularly shaped bloke?"

Max sighed and sat down on his unmade bed. "How tall is this..."

"James." Sophie answered.

"James then, bloody boring name your boyfriend's got by the way. How tall is James?"

I rolled my eyes. "Not even my two best friends can resist pretending we're an item and you haven't even met him. And his name's just as boring as Max."

Max tapped his finger to his nose. "Ah, but Max is short for Maximilian and that name is just plain BA."

I sat down next to him on the bed and gave him a shove, disregarding his layer of man-slime."Whatever, James is not my boyfriend and he's about the same height as you but much thinner. He's quite gangly now that I think about it, hasn't _quite _grown into his limbs."

Max snorted. "Then my trousers are no good for him, I've got a long torso, those jeans will show off his ankles. So unless he _likes _the clamdigger look..."

I sigh. "Guess we'll have to shopping, Soph. Can we at least borrow a jumper from you, Maxie, please?"

He rolled his eyes. "You aren't going to leave until I give you something, are you?"

"Nope." I grinned. "Besides you owe me after covering for you and Lara in the-"

"What?!" Sophie asked. "Lara? Lara Sprite?!"

"You promised you wouldn't tell!" Max groaned.

"Come off it, she's been bragging about it for the past three days, the whole school should know by Monday and it's better for your sister to hear from me than via the grapevine. Now a jumper to fit an average sized bloke who hasn't quite grown into his limbs."

Max sighed, got up and threw me a red jumper. "Here. Now out, unless you want to admire what running and football has done for my abs."

"Eeeeewww!" Sophie and I both squealed as we left the room running.

* * *

Ironically enough when James appeared in the front closet the next day he was dressed normally. "What are you wearing?" I asked. He ran a hand through his hair like he always did when he was feeling nervous, or excited, or thoughtful, or teasingly flirtatious, or...I was getting distracted.

"Well, Dad had to go to the office early so I had to get tips from Sirius but he was young in the 70's and I didn't have a lot to work with so..."

"No, you look great." I told him. He did. He was wearing dark jeans, an AC DC t-shirt and a black leather jacket and fingerless gloves. "I just don't need the clothes I stole from a friend of mine after all."

"Er, sorry you went through all that trouble for nothing...?" James said slowly.

"It's fine, it's-" I was interrupted by the sound of a motor coming towards the house. Bullocks, that was Max and Sophie's Vespa! "In here!" I pushed James into the Apparition Room. "Apparate us to the Stadium now please!"

James gave me a weird look. "I thought the match didn't start for another two hours."

"It doesn't but, er -" My pocket buzzed and I took out my phone. It was a text from Max. _Just rode up to your house. Can't wait to meet this James character. _Of course they'd show up unannounced just in time to embarrass me.

"Cool, is that one of those cellularly telephones?" James asked. "Can I hold it?!"

"Shove off James." I was about to text Max back saying I'd already left I heard Damian answer the door. "Hullo, Max, Sophie. James just got here, they've got to be in the sitting room because they weren't in the kitchen with Dad and I."

ShitShitShitShitShit. What to do...?

"Um, Izzy, what's going on?" James asked.

"Er, nothing. Nothing at all. Let's get out of here." Once I was sure the entryway was empty I opened the door and let us out. Unfortunately I calculated wrong as we exited the closet in plain sight of Max.

Now Max is one of those people who shows absolutely every thought he's thinking on his face clear as day. He turned, his eyebrows scrunched together, looking confused. Then he saw James and I and he looked from me to James and back to me, as though trying to connect the dots. Then his face went lax in complete disbelief before scowling deeply.

"Hullo Max." I said trying to keep my tone natural. "This is James Potter. James, Max Forbes."

"Hullo." Max's face didn't soften and he gripped James' hand in one of those testosterone filled challenge handshakes. "What's going on here?"

"Are you a Scotsman?" James asked, keeping his grip firm yet friendly. "My second favorite professor is a Scot. My first team captain too, fantastic keeper, Wood was."

Max released James' hand but was still scowling ferociously. "Second favorite professor, have you got a list?"

"You bet." James chuckled. "Actually it's just that 'favorite professor' is a term reserved for my parents' mate. But Professor Wallace - the Scot - he's a great man. Only member of staff never to give me a detention."

"Let's sit down." I said a bit too brightly and much too firmly and ushered them into the sitting room hoping to high heaven the tension would diminish with the change in environment.

"This is Sophie McAdams, Max's step-sister." I told James. "Sophie, James Potter."

"Nice to meet you James." Sophie said and when I sat down next to her she whispered in my ear, "Gangly, my arse. James is _fit_."

I chose to ignore her.

"So when do we leave?" Max asked. "James and I are leaving soon. We're planning on taking a cab." I lied easily.

This announcement was met with 4 sets of disbelieving eyes and then everyone spoke at once.

"Sophie and I are coming with you." Max proclaimed.

"What's a cab?" James questioned.

"You really thought he'd let you go alone after you tumbled out of the closet together?" Damian whispered in my ear.

"A cab is much too expensive." Sophie exclaimed.

I opened my mouth then closed it, unsure what to do now. Fortunately I'd trained my brother well in the act of improvising. Damian stood up and announced the new plan. "Dad and I are taking all four of you in the minivan. We're going to have father-son bonding time or something like that while you're at the match. I'll go make sure he's ready."

He exited quickly, leaving me with my three best friends, none of whom were looking very friendly. James looked befuddled beyond repair, Sophie looked ready to swoon and Max looked like he wanted to pummel James. Honestly, if you thought overprotective brothers were bad, try having an overprotective, six foot at 15, muscular, Scottish best mate who might as well be your brother as you've known him long enough to have played naked in the backyard hose together.

"So Jamie," I began and stopped when Max's glare became more pronounced. Note to self: usage of exclusive nicknames does nothing to lessen the tension. "Pull any good pranks lately?"

"Not really." James said flatly. "I've been having trouble sleeping."

Oh yeah, I put an alarm under his bed and set it to 2:05 in the morning! I grinned. "Alls fair in love and prank wars. Or something like that." I added quickly upon seeing Max's reaction to the L word.

Honestly, I would hate to abandon James to Max's wrath and I didn't want him to have a biased impression of my friends but I was sorely tempted to leave them alone together so we could get the 'if you hurt Isabelle I will cut you the frick up' conversation out of the way. Or better yet... my train of thought was interrupted when Dad entered the room.

"Just to double check, Izzy." He began.

"Isabelle." I interrupted. Seriously if James had started some sort of fad I wouldn't need Max to do the cutting.

"Right, right. Just to double check, Isabelle, I'm driving the four of you to the stadium for the match and then spending the afternoon with Damian until the match is over and then picking you up."

"That's the plan." I replied. It actually was a pretty good plan. Except for the whole, Sophie and Max tagging along at the last minute, which I wasn't upset about... just annoyed.

"Right then, we better get going. To the van." He grabbed his jacket and keys and walked outside with James, Damian and Sophie in tow.

"Wait a mo, Max. I want to tell you something." I grabbed his arm.

"Aye?"

"Will you cut it out please?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He replied guiltily.

I glared at him. "Cut James some slack and give the bloke a chance, will you? You two could be really good friends if you just gave him a chance. And no, he's not my boyfriend, so you don't have to worry about him hurting me or something stupid like that."

Sophie's head popped around the corner. "So you're not dating him?"

"No." I reiterated.

"So he's single?" She nearly squealed.

I wrinkled my nose. "I honestly don't know. He's never mentioned it one way or the other."

"But you really don't have feelings for him, Isabelle?" She asked seriously. "Because friendship totally comes first so if you like him..."

"No I do not like him that way. At. All. I. Promise." I enunciated slowly looking pointedly at both of them.

Max nodded and I knew he believed me (what a relief) and Sophie nearly wet herself. "Then if he's single I _totally _get first dibs."

* * *

By the time we got to our seats in the Stadium all tension had been diminished. All four of us were pranksters so that served as common ground. This especially helped Max and James because honestly what do blokes talk about? Cars (which James had rose in a total of three times - including this morning), sports (obviously taboo) and girls (which was off the tables since Sophie and I were there).

When we finally arrived. When we got out of the car I grabbed James' arm. "You two go find our seats." I told Max and Sophie. "James and I will get food." Max opened his mouth but I cut him off. "And yes I know your favorites!"

Max grinned and we parted ways. As we waited in line, I told James the basics of football and he got the hang of it really quick. "So it's more anything-but-your-hands ball than football, am I right?" He asked.

I nodded. "Or anything-but-your-hands-unless-your-keeper ball. Um, four orders of fish and chips, a mountain dew, two limeades and..." I turned to James. "What do you want to drink?"

"Er..." He scrutinized the sign for a bit before giving up and asking me with bright eyes, "Oooh, do they have that bubbly drink. What was it called? You gave me some last Christmas when I was at your house..."

"Pepsi? Sure they have it." I turned to the attendant. "and a Pepsi." I paid him, handed a glowing James half the loot and we joined Max and Sophie.

* * *

The match was fantastic and we all enjoyed ourselves. As we exited the stadium James and I fell behind Sophie and Max to discuss Quidditch vs. Football. We both stubbornly refused to retract our previous statements about the best sport in the universe. I cited the physical exertion and danger of football (we don't have instantaneous spells to heal us) as evidence for its superiority but James clung to Quidditch saying the thrill of flying made up for any imagined flaws. We each conceded though that the other's preferred sport was pretty awesome.

When we reached the lot I leaned against a lamppost and watched our breath curl up to sky in white wisps. "I'll call my Dad, yeah?"

"Can I do it?" James asked a little too excitedly.

Sophie raised her eyebrows but said nothing. "Erm, sure." I punched in Dad's number. "Push the green button when you're ready, hold this part to your ear and talk normally."

"Brill!" He walked a few paces away, grinned, gave me a thumbs up and put the phone to his ear.

"He's a bit... odd. Completely good looking and charming, but odd all the same." Sophie commented.

Max nodded. "Agreed. Not the good looking bit, the odd bit. He's not the bad sort of bloke though, just... ignorant. Incredibly ignorant, actually."

Not knowing what to say I stayed silent and then I saw _him. _I jumped behind Max. "Hide me!"

"What's wrong?" Then Max saw _him _too.

"I've got to use the loo." He said flatly, his face one of pure hatred.

"Don't abandon me!" I begged. But he just waved and walked off.

Sophie was blissfully unaware for a moment but then she saw _him _too. "I just remembered that I totally blew off Dean and Rachel for Maths tutoring. I should probably call them."

I grabbed her arm. "First, it's hols. Second, they're probably enjoying each other's company just fine - more than fine now that I think about it. Actually Rachel will be livid if you interrupt a snog session and..."

"Hullo Iz." A nasally voice from behind me greeted.

I plastered a friendly expression on my face and turned around. "Hullo, Nigel. Fancy seeing you here." I glanced back at Sophie for backup but she was already a few meters away fake texting. "My mates are rubbish." I grumbled under my breath.

"What was that?" Nigel asked.

Nigel and I were in the same advanced placement chemistry class - the only two from our year. For some reason that made him think we should be friends or - eurgh - more than friends. Now he wasn't your average brainiac. Which is to say, he had a decent build, was the same height as me, and played sports. And I wasn't _just _adverse to him because he had the world's worst case of acne, colorless blue eyes and thin blonde hair - he also had a superiority complex and never really listened to anything I said.

"Good match, wasn't it?" I asked him.

I braced myself for the inevitable onslaught of slams against the players and referees and stats and speculations about the teams' chances and what he would do if he was Prime Minister (how we ALWAYS got to this topic I was unsure). Nigel didn't disappoint me and he was rambling something about the stupidity of some member of parliament when James trotted over to us a huge grin on his face.

"Izzy, check this out! This celly thing is SO ace, check out this game thing, I got the eggs back from the evil green pigs!" James said walking over to us. "This thing does SO much more than Professor Clearwater told us. It's practically magic!"

"Who are you?" Nigel asked snidely.

"James Potter." He stuck out his hand. "You must be a friend of Izzy's."

Nigel replied airily. "Yes, Iz and I take advanced chemistry together."

If that was supposed to impress James, it didn't - probably because he had no clue what chem was. So Nigel tried again.

"You play football?"

James shook his head. "I like the game, but I don't play - no."

Nigel nodded in what I'm sure he thought was a knowing way. "Rugby bloke?"

"Er... no, I don't play that either."

Nigel raised his eyebrows. "You're not a Yank, are you?"

James looked appalled. "No!"

"Oh, well, I play both. Rugby and football, that is."

See what I mean? Nigel is so conceited that he plays both rugby and football. I know from experience that if he's with football players he'll say he plays football, but if he's with rugby players he'll make himself out to be a rugby bloke who can't stand football. It's pathetic.

James simply nodded and turned to me. "Your Dad said he'll be here soon. Mentioned something about takeaway."

"Great." I nodded at him. "Well, we better get to the meeting point, Nigel. See you in class."

James touched my arm. "I thought your Dad told us to meet him-"

"Yes, Jamie, I remember where the meeting place is!" I replied sharply. Honestly if I had to spend another moment with Nigel-the-Chemistry-Prick I'd scream.

To my disgust Nigel leaned in close to me and spoke quietly. "Listen Iz, I was thinking that break is awfully long time and we haven't seen each other for a while..."

I cut him off. "Yes, yes, it's been a while, but I should go, Max Forbes is waiting for us."

Nigel sneered. "Max Forbes? I really can't understand why a smart girl like you would consort with a dim-"

I could feel myself losing my temper. This didn't happen often, but when it did... "Max Forbes, that's right. The student whose poetry is enshrined in the International Shakespeare Society's British Students' Poetry book! And I'd appreciate it if you didn't make fun of my mates!"

"I'm just saying that while rhyming is fun, a real future depends on-"

"Good manners." James cut in, his arm circled my waist. "Come on Izzy, let's go to - wherever the meeting place is."

Nigel eyes James' arm as though it was an acidic snake. "No, it's fine. I'll be leaving. See you at school, Iz."

As he stalked away I couldn't help but call out angrily. "And my name is Isabelle!"

I huffed and leaned into James, my adrenaline gone. "I hate that bloody wanker. He thinks he's so great! But I'll hate myself for this come term. He's going to make class rather hellish."

"I'm sure things will work out." James said.

"And if they don't, at least he gets the point, namely that I'd rather shoot myself in the foot then hold a conversation with him. And you know what's the worst part? Everyone said such good things about him. He was a good student, on his way to becoming prefect, funny and personable. Then I find out we're in advanced chem together and I get all excited - hoping to make a friend who likes science and will get the periodic table jokes my Dad makes. And he turns out to be a huge prat. It was like finding out that unicorns don't exist!"

James' brow furrowed. "But unicorns do-"

But I stopped listening when I saw Max and Sophie coming into view. Max's eyes narrowed when he saw James' arm around my waist, but he didn't say anything and I ignored his reaction, deciding he was more reprehensible for abandoning me.

"You two are a rubbish mates, you know that?!" I said without any real malice in my breath. "Leaving me on my own with Nigel Peacock."

James sniggered. "His name's really Peacock? Like the green and purple bird that's known for being vain?"

We chuckled along with him and I shoved him lightly. "Like your name is any better James Sirius Potter."

Sophie giggled harder. "That's an oxymoron, that is. You should've been called James Unserious Potter."

James opened his mouth - no doubt to tell her it was Sirius, not serious but I stopped him. "Jamie the Unserious, it has a nice ring to it."

At that moment Dad and Damian pulled up and we piled into the van, Damian up front with Dad, James and I in the second row and Max and Sophie in the back.

"If you don't mind me asking," Max began as we pulled out into traffic "what kind of name is serious?"

James ran a hand through his hair. "Well, for starters, it's S-I-R-I-U-S."

"Like the star." Dad said.

"What?' We asked in unison.

"Sirius, Canis Major, brightest star in the sky, the Dog Star."

There was a moment of silence before James burst into laughter.

"Um, you okay?" I asked him.

He nodded apologetically but kept laughing, after another moment he was able to contain himself and ran a hand through his hair. "And all this time I thought Padfoot just picked a...! Never cared about symbolism, my arse! Sorry, all, bit of an inside joke with my namesake. I'll have to ask him about it."

I decided not to mention that both his namesakes were dead. Max broke the awkward silence. "Mr. Cross, I thought you were a biochemist."

"Well I am." Dad replied easily. "But that doesn't mean I don't dabble in astronomy now and again. In fact, Sirius is very interesting as he is not merely a star but a cluster which is constantly moving closer and closer..."

"Dad, look out for the yellow truck!" I called out. He swerved out of the way just in time. "Merlin, Dad, eyes on the road."

"Merlin?" Sophie asked.

I felt a blush creep up my neck. "Er, yes, Merlin. It's less offensive than God, you know."

I noticed James smirking at me and I shoved him lightly. "Get lost." I murmured.

It took us awhile to get back home due to traffic but we chatted about the match and complained about the demandingness of teachers and compared the strictness of our two schools. I concluded that Hogwarts really wasn't that strict at all, though they did dole out some pretty creative punishments.

Dad stopped for pizza and more Pepsi (I was beginning to think James was an addict) on the way back to the house and though we invited Sophie and Max to join us they turned us down.

"Dad wasn't too happy that we blew off our plans with him last minute." Max explained.

"Yeah, we should get back, but thanks!" Sophie agreed. She hugged James. "It was great to meet you, make sure you turn up again if you have the weekend off or over the hols or something."

James shook Max's hand and I noticed it was more of a friendly man-grasp than an intimidation grip. "I don't get weekends off, but I'll be sure to 'turn up' around the hols."

Sophie climbed onto her black Vespa behind her brother and waved as they rode off.

"A visit during the hols. Yippee." I commented sarcastically.

"Hey!"

"Kidding." I replied grabbing his hand and leading him inside. "Come on, help me set the table for dinner."

After showing him where everything was in the kitchen he reached into his pocket and took out his wand.

"No!" I said sharply, grabbing it from him. "No magic in the house - except for the Apparition Room, of course."

James arranged his face in a melt-you-heart puppy dog look. It was rather disgusting and probably would've worked on a girl who was interested in him, but only made me gag.

"I was well behaved all day, not doing a single bit of magic with all those muggles around. But now it's just your family and no one will care - in fact they'll probably figure it's just Tasha if she's around as much as you say." He turned on the charm even heavier.

But I resisted. "Nope. I'll put it over the spice cupboard with Damian's wand. This is my home and rule number one is _no magic._"

"Why?" James demanded running a hand through his hair.

I sighed. "Because this is a muggle house, James. I'm not a witch and Dad's not a wizard and sometimes - even though I think your world is real brill - it's nice when things are done the normal way. You get me?"

James nodded. "Fine, I'll get plates and cups. You get forks and napkins."

* * *

After dinner Dad and Damian cleaned up while James and I sat on the front porch together, reminding me of the time we drank pumpkin juice and Pepsi together over a year ago. We were in similar positions, with a Pepsi bottle and two glasses between us, there was alight dusting of snow and we were both wrapped in blankets to ward off the sold. It struck me how much things had changed since then and how much time I'd spent with James, getting to know him, his parents and his whole huge family.

"James, can I ask you a question you don't have to answer?" I asked hesitantly. This had bothered me since the Quidditch match but I would totally understand if he he considered it prying.

"Sure Izzy." He replied smiling. "Your Dad's scar, the zed shaped one-"

He cut me off, damn, I knew I shouldn't have asked. "It's not a zed - it's a lightning bolt!"

"What?"

His brow furrowed. "His scar isn't zed-shaped, it's shaped like a lightning bolt! How could you not...Anyway, yes, I know what you're going to ask. It's from the war. That Riddle bloke I was telling you about at the Christmas party, remember him?"

I nodded.

"Well when Dad was a year old he killed Dad's parents and tried to kill Dad. The killing curse is highly illegal and there'd never been a survivor except my Dad." He must've seen the questions written on my face because he continued, "Let me finish. He survived because his Mum performed a very powerful bit of magic - she died defending Dad and that created a charm that protected him after she was gone. Riddle wanted them dead because there was a prophecy that Dad would grow up to defeat him."

"A prophecy?"

"Confusing bit of magic, divination is, and not all prophecies come true like you think they will, but Riddle took that one pretty serious. It ended up being his downfall like it predicted though."

Talking about the war and everything cast a heavy shadow over us that I didn't know how to dispel so I merely stayed silent. He broke the silence after a few moments with a grave expression on his face.

"Izzy, can I ask you a question you don't have to answer?" I nodded, it was only fair after all. "Why do you have such a big car if it's just the three of you?"

I looked at my shoes. "Mum and Dad always wanted a lot of kids. Damian's pregnancy was hard though and it took awhile for her to pregnant again. And then she was and we were happy and then there was the accident." I felt my throat constrict. No one outside Dad, Damian and I knew that my Mum had been pregnant when she died. It wasn't like it was a big secret, it was just too hard to talk about.

James put an arm around my shoulders but I shrugged it off and tried to lighten the mood "Anyway, it's handy for carpools and whatnot." I gulped. "This is silly, it's like everytime I talk to you I end up crying, you probably think I'm a whimp. But I never cry."

He looked at me right in the eyes, the warm hazel behind his crooked lenses piercing my gray-blue. "Maybe that's your problem, Izzy. Crying isn't a sign you're weak - from the day you were born it's meant that you're alive."

"So your saying I should cry all the time?" I asked skeptically looking away.

He met my eyes again. "No, but finding a cry buddy and letting it out every now and again isn't a bad thing." He chuckled, finally releasing his gaze. "Now I sound like my Mum."

I laughed at that and we talked about things that didn't matter for a little while longer. "Well I better get going." James said standing up and heading inside.

"Yeah." I tried to keep the sadness from my voice. He would be leaving for Hogwarts in three days and I wouldn't see him until Easter - if they had break like we do and if he decided to come home for the hols and if he meant what he said to Sophie about visiting and if our breaks coincided. Mer- God, that was a lot of ifs.

"Are you coming to the King's Cross?" He asked returning the blanket he had borrowed.

I shook my head. "It'll just be Dad and Damian, Tasha and I are going to have a girls afternoon. I'm excited. I haven't been shopping for fun in years." He looked a little disappointed.

I stood there idly for a moment before remembering why he was waiting to leave. "I'll fetch your wand, be back in a flash."

When I got back he was leaning against the wall. He ran his hand through his hair again. "Listen, I was talking to Uncle D and his fireplace is hooked up to the floo network. And every now and again, on the weekends, us students are allowed into the Village by the castle - Hogsmeade it's called. So I was wondering if I owl'd you the date, would you floo to the Three Broomsticks? It's a pub where we all get together. We could spend the day together."

I grinned. "That sounds brill. Yeah, let me know when to come and I'll be there."

I thought his face would break he grinned so big. He took his wand from me and turned to enter the Apparition Room. "It's a date then."

I grabbed his shoulder and turned him to look at me. "It's not a date, Jamie."

He smirked. "Aw, c'mon, Izzy, please? Or are you just afraid of Max?"

I raised my eyebrows. "If anyone should be afraid of Max it's you. It's not a date; I'll still come though."

James scoffed. "You're flooing halfway across the continent to spend the day with me, Izzy. If that's not a date, I don't know what is."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not doing this for you, for all you know I'm excited to see my little brother-"

"First years aren't allowed. Hogsmeade weekends are strictly 3rd year and up."

"Fine then I'm excited to see Rose and Molly. And Fred." I teased.

"You don't even like Fred."

"No, but I am excited at the chance to see Molly and Rose again. Just owl me the dates as soon as you can, ok?"

James just shook his head and kept that stupid grin on his face. "Ok. See you then, Izzy."

"See you James." I shut the door behind him and waited until I heard the apparition 'pop' before I turned away from the door.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter etc. belongs to Rowling, no copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** Hope you liked this, it took me a couple tries to get it right but I'm happy with the final product. Many, many thanks to _**Alexiroseni**_for her beta skills. Ok, so I found this site that's a guide to British slang/phrases/words for Americans and I HAVE to know... in the UK does the term to "knock up" someone _really _mean to wake them up? Because if so that sets up for _so _many awkward situations for Americans in Britain - even moreso than pants (underwear in UK; trousers in US).

Best Wishes, Gwen


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Hogsmeade**

"For the last time Fred, it's not a date." Quaffle tossed.

Quaffle caught. "For the last time James, I still don't see why not." Quaffle tossed.

Caught. "For the last time Fred, she's just my mate." Tossed

Caught. "For the last time James, I don't believe you." Tossed.

Caught. "For the last time Fred, why don't you believe me?" Tossed.

Caught."For the last time James, because I don't." Tossed.

Fred and James were 'getting ready' for the first Hogsmeade weekend of term. Which is to say they were sitting on James' bed - James at the head, Fred at the foot - tossing a quaffle back and forth. Mainly they were avoiding the crowd of girl cousins who were asking anyone with eyes and ears their opinion on something. Not to mention the vast majority of the female school body who _needed _to know exactly who James Sirius Potter was going to spend the afternoon with, as not a single one of them could truthfully claim that she was James' Hogsmeade date.

James caught the quaffle. "That's hardly a valid reason. Why does everyone insist that Izzy and I are a couple or should be a couple or are secretly a couple or something equally daft? It's like a bloke can't spend time with a girl unless they're snogging." James tossed the ball back to Fred.

Fred caught it. "No, it's that _you _don't spend time with a girl unless you're snogging." And tossed it back.

Quaffle caught. "I should probably feel offended by that." Quaffle tossed.

Fred caught it and grimaced. "Yeah, probably." Tossed it back.

The quaffle was tossed back and forth in a silence for a moment before Fred spoke again. "But honestly, you have your pick of birds and you choose to spend the day with the _one _who doesn't want to jump you."

James caught the ball, replied, "Pretty much sums it up." and tossed it back all without hesitating a moment.

Fred held onto the quaffle, wanting a legitimate answer to a serious question. "But... why? It's completely inconsistent and that's rather inconsiderate you."

James sighed and stood up. "It's nearly ten, I told her to be at the pub at quarter past. I should get going."

"James-"

James turned to glare at his cousin. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Right." But before James could leave he heard his cousin mutter, "Bloody nutter."

* * *

"Jamie! Over here!"

James looked at the clock on the wall, 10:21. He was late, so it kind of served him right that she was already at a table with Molly and Louis happily drinking pumpkin juice. "Hullo, Izzy, Molly, Louis."

"Hullo." They chorused.

James sat next to Louis, across from Izzy. "So how are things with you?"

"Alright." Izzy replied. "Chem class is hell but my grades are still okay so that's good. Sophie's asked for your mailing address every time I see her. Oh, and Max and our friend Dean got a month's worth of detention for sticking toilet seats to the walls of the cafeteria, now I wonder where they got _that _idea?"

James chuckled. "No idea. Anything else exciting at the Cross residence?"

"Yes, Dad and Tasha are official. I would say Facebook official but neither of them have one and you don't know what I'm talking about, so I'll keep it simple. They are together."

Louis and Molly congratulated her cheerfully.

"It's about time." James commented drily. Molly scowled disapprovingly but Izzy laughed.

"I know, right? I mean, they've known each other for two years now and they've liked each other the whole time. I mean, they've been unofficially dating for a year at least. I reckon they were just worried I'd react badly, Merlin knows Damian's always thought the idea was brill."

"How did your Dad meet Tasha Prewitt anyway?" Molly asked.

"Boring story including some underage magic - Damian ended up in St. Mungo's." James replied dismissively. It wasn't _exactly _a lie so he didn't feel like a complete Slytherin. "So, Izzy, what convinced them that you really didn't mind?"

She smiled. "It was partially due to you, I think."

Louis clapped his hands over James' ears. "Oh don't tell him that! His head is big enough already!"

Molly rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Louis. Isabelle, continue."

"Well, after a crap day that included this total prick called Nigel - James knows the one I'm talking about - I got home and Tasha was there. So instead of holding it all in like a volcano destined to explode I talked to her about it. It was helpful. And then I told her I thought she and my Dad were pretty cool together, and I may have implied something about age and biological clocks."

James nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. "You didn't?"

"Sure did Jamie, I mean, what else was I supposed to do? I'd already seen them canoodling in the kitchen. Of course they don't know that, nor that I deep cleaned the kitchen the next morning, but still - it was getting kind of ridiculous."

"That's kind of..." Molly began.

"Weird?" James finished for her.

Izzy wrinkled her nose. "Is it? Maybe, oh well. Not as weird as finding your mates' parents canoodling in even stranger places!"

James shrugged. "Yeah, Weasley's aren't exactly known for discretion."

"My parents are." Molly sniffed.

"It was your parents I was talking about." Izzy replied flatly.

Molly turned Weasley-red (a trait James was glad he hadn't inherited) and Louis exclaimed, "Burn!"

"Speaking of indiscretion, Louis." Molly began. "Where's the girlfriend?"

Louis replied in poetic French, well it sounded poetic but he could've been talking about wallpaper.

"He says that they are free spirits floating in the wind and need not spend every Hogsmeade weekend together." A voice behind him translated.

James turned, it was Scor (yes the git spoke French fluently).

"Translation - he has no clue." Albus said sarcastically.

"Greetings to our favorite Slytherins." James said indifferently.

"Hullo, Scor, Al, Rose." Izzy said. "Take a seat."

Rose squished into the row next to James, effectively pressing Louis against the wall and Al sat next to Izzy, causing Izzy to be sitting practically in his younger brother's lap.

Scor remained standing and turned to Izzy. "What're you drinking, Izzy?"

It was official, this arrangement sucked.

"Isabelle." She replied sharply. Okay, maybe it didn't suck so badly. "I'll take more pumpkin juice."

"Not butterbeer?"

"What's that?" She asked.

All eyes focused on James.

"Seriously, bro?" Al asked.

"You haven't given her butterbeer?" Molly said, shocked.

"Erm, no. It just hadn't thought..."

"No worries, fair maiden. I shall amend this heinous sin." Scor winked at Izzy and left.

"So, what's the latest in the clan?" Izzy asked.

"Er, nothing since Christmas, really." Rose replied.

Louis coughed but said nothing and then Scor returned levitating a mug of butterbeer for everyone. "All right now, Al get out the camera." Scor said, pulling up a chair to sit at the end of the table. "I have a feeling we'll want to record this."

"It does taste good, right?" Izzy asked, bringing the frothy liquid to her lips. "I mean, this isn't a prank is it?" She glared at James.

James shook his head quickly. "Fred's not here to witness, remember?"

She rolled her eyes and took a sip. It was hesitant at first but once she tasted it her eyes lit up, grinned and began gulping it down as if she couldn't get it in fast enough. She downed the whole pint in one go and slammed it on the table. "That stuff is delicious! Jamie, you stink for keeping me in the dark - Scor you are fantastic! Can I trouble you for a refill?"

Scor grinned and took her glass. "Absolutely."

"Wait a moment. What's the cost?"

Scor just shook his head. "When you're amongst this crowd, Isabelle, you learn that we all pay for each other's everything and don't keep track. We'll end up even one day."

"If you're sure..."

"Don't worry about it Izzy." James said. What Scor had said was absolutely true; they kind of threw around money but at least they weren't selfish or stingy with it. In James' mind wealth could be treated as completely important - which led to tearing a family apart; or completely unimportant which was what they did.

"All right then." Izzy conceded.

Scor winked again - did he have a tic? "No problem."

At that moment Dominique, followed by a red faced bloke James assumed was her new boyfriend, and Fred.

"Good, good, you're all here!" Dom said, her face flushed. "They're coming any minute now!"

"Who's coming?" Molly asked.

James heard Louis swear in French.

"What's going on?" Izzy asked.

"Oh, hullo, blondie." Fred greeted her coldly and then handed James a piece of parchment. "Sorry, cuz, had to borrow the map. Mind heading over to Honeydukes to pick them up?"

Annoyed James climbed over Rose to stand in front of Fred. "You're not making any sense, pick what up?!"

But Fred's answer was blocked out by Dom's shout. "All right you lot. It's finally official! And since they're on their way here to talk to Louis and I anyway I thought now would be the perfect time to celebrate!"

Scor asked something in perfect French - the git - and Louis replied resulting in Scor letting out a loud whoop and sending red and silver ribbons shooting out the end of his wand.

"English, please!" Rose called out impatiently.

"Vic and Teddy are engaged!" Scor exclaimed, a rare wide faced grin gracing his face.

The announcement was met with cheers and calls for firewhis- er, butterbeer, all different types of food and more chairs.

Fred brought his mouth close to James' ear and yelled over the din, his voice harsher than normal. "The younger ones are coming in via Honeydukes. Get them here without being caught, eh?"

"Sure thing!" James made his way through the crowd of Clanners who were talking excitedly, blocking off a corner of the pub for the celebration, tacking up spur of the moment decorations and ordering food until he reached Isabelle who was caught in the middle of everything an enormous grin lighting up her entire face.

He held out his hand. "Come with me."

She grabbed it and he led them out of the pub and into the snowy weather. "Oh, this is _so _exciting. Congratulations, James!" Izzy said.

"What're you congratulating me for?"

"Well, Teddy's basically your older brother and Vic's your cousin and it's the first wedding in this generation of the Clan and, and, and it's all so fantastic!" Well... that was a shot of perspective.

"Yeah! This _is _pretty fantastic, isn't it?! Great Merlin, Ted's marrying Victoire! He's _marrying_ her!"

Izzy looked down, saw they were still connected and quickly dropped James' hand. "So, er, where are we going?"

"Honeydukes it's a chocolate shop - you'll love it. C'mon."

Izzy's eyes seemed to grow wider with each step they took on the short path from the Three Broomsticks to Honeydukes and she spoke a kilometer a minute, not waiting for James to respond.

"You know wizarding clothes really are hilarious."

"Was that girl holding a toad?"

"Ooh! A bookshop!"

"There are so many of you... and this isn't even the whole school! How many witches and wizards are there anyway?"

"What's a Wheeze, anyway and why is your Uncle George's shop called that?"

And finally a breathless. "Merlin, Jamie, when you said 'chocolate shop' you should have said chocolate paradise. Can we go in?"

James smiled. "Of course, it's a shop. In fact, I'm pretty sure we're allowed to buy things in there too."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on then."

But he grabbed her arm. "Wait, follow me through the back."

She raised her eyebrows but agreed. "Um, why are we sneaking into their stock room?"

"You'll see. It'd hardly be a proper Weasley-Potter Clan Engagement Party without the little ones reminding us how old we are."

With that James reached down to open the trapdoor but it sprung open with a bang and his sister's head popped up.

"Hullo, James!" She smiled through the dirt that covered her face. "Come on, be a gentleman, help me out."

James complied and Lily rushed over to hug Isabelle saying, "Isn't it all so exciting? Teddy's really going to be part of the family now!"

Izzy grasped Lily's hands and the started doing this weird jumping up and down/spinning girl thing that quite frankly freaked James out.

"Do you know if you'll be in the wedding, Lils? You'd make such a pretty junior bridesmaid!" Iz squealed.

"Do you really think so?" Lily squealed back.

"Hush up, you two!" James whisper-yelled at them. "Do you want them to find us?"

"Sorry." Lily giggled.

James turned back to the trapdoor where Daeda, Roxy and Hugo had all climbed out. They were just waiting on Lucy and Damian. Izzy's brother appeared a moment later with tiny Lucy on his back.

"She twisted her ankle in the dark." He explained as Hugo helped him get Lucy out of the tunnel and onto sure footing.

James put a finger to his lips. "Alright you lot. Keep quiet, follow me and try not to make your unpermitted presence here obvious."

"I adore your family." Izzy flopped into the seat across from James after dancing with Molly and Rose on the makeshift dance floor. The party was in full swing around them, Teddy and Vic had been surprised to say the least and were more than ecstatic to have an impromptu celebration of their engagement. "Yeah, we're pretty cool." James replied handing her a butterbeer. "You dance well."

She smiled and accepted the drink. "Thanks and thanks."

James loved his family too, and the party was fun and he was happy for Teddy and Vic but this wasn't how he had planned for Izzy's first trip to Hogsmeade to go. But they still had a couple hours and no one would miss them. He was about to ask her if she wanted to see the rest of the village when he heard an all too familiar voice squeal his name.

"JAMES!" _Damn. _

James plastered a smile to his face. "Hullo, Isla."

"Where have you _been_? The girls and I have been looking _all over _for you." She walked up to the booth, put her hands on the table and leaned toward James giving him a perfect view down her rather low cut shirt. James couldn't help but stare - not at her chest, he wasn't a prev - but what was written on the shirt.

Isla seemed to know exactly what she was doing and grinned larger. "Do you like the shirts?"

James eyes snapped up to her face which was caked with makeup. Now Isla wasn't an ugly girl, rather the opposite actually, but she was just so... artificial that it ruined the image.

"Uh..." James honestly had no idea what to say.

"I'm sorry but" Izzy cut in, looking put out. He had forgotten about her for a moment. "What exactly does your shirt say? From here it looks like an "I" then a giant red heart and then the initials "JSP" but that's just ridiculous..."

"Oh no," Isla interrupted with a toss of her long black shiny hair that would've looked nice if she didn't have fifteen different colored hair feathers in it. "That's exactly what it says 'I heart JSP' - I love James Sirius Potter." She looked at James, then at Izzy, then back at James. "Ooh. Did you invite her to Hogsmeade, James? That's _so cute!_" She scooted into the booth next to James and grabbed Izzy's hand across the table. "You know, even though you're a muggle you can still join up."

James felt the blood drain from his face. Merlin's shit. It was his worst nightmare. He couldn't find his voice. He tried to catch Isla or Izzy's eye but they had their eyes trained on each other. He looked through the crowd, seeking Fred. There, he was chatting with Dominique not a meter away. James caught his cousin's eye and mouthed the words, _HELP ME! _but Fred just looked at him, shrugged his shoulders and turned back to his conversation with Dominique.

Bloody- but his thoughts were interrupted by Izzy choking out the two words he wished he'd never heard. "_Fan club?"_

Isla nodded enthusiastically. "We don't have official meetings or anything like that, but there are... other benefits. It's only two sickles to join."

James looked at the floor rather than meet Izzy's disdainful gaze.

"The James Sirius Potter _fan club." _Izzy repeated disgusted. "And _you're _the president."

"That's right." James heard Isla reply. "So do you want in?"

"What's there a cost for?" Izzy asked through gritted teeth.

Out of the corner of his eye James saw Isla glance at him, then lean over the table to whisper something in Izzy's ear. James looked up, he was actually curious why the bloody fan club needed a membership fee but upon seeing Izzy's face go a little green he decided he _didn't _want to know. Izzy glared at him then stood up.

"Excuse me, I need to vomit." And she stalked toward the bathroom.

"Izzy!" James managed to call out. But she either didn't hear him, or was ignoring him.

"Well, I don't know what's gotten into _her._"

"Isla, just stop, please." James ran a hand through his hair. James had discovered the fan club existed about halfway through 3rd year. Basically it was a bunch of girls who fancied him - no who fancied his money, fame and family - and decided to make a big deal about it with Isla McLaggen as their leader. Everytime James thought about it - which wasn't as often as everyone seemed to think - it made his stomach churn with a mix of emotions.

Isla interrupted his thoughts. "I think I need a nickname."

"Er, what?"

"You know, a nickname. You've got one for just about everyone. Fred's Freddie, Lily's Lils-"

"Yes, but that's my family."

"Ava, your seeker is Ave. Isabelle is Izzy, her little brother's Fuzz, Dianna Boot is Di-"

James ran a hand through his hair, "Fine, what do you suggest?"

"Iz." She replied immediately.

He stared. "Iz?"

"Yeah."

She was impossible. James couldn't believe how he could have _ever _thought she was attractive. "Iz, like Izzy?"

She had the decency to look down. "No silly, like my name. Isla. Iz-la. Iz."

"Well travelling in that vein, maybe I'll just call you La. Or La-la because you are clearly living in la-la land."

James watched as her eyes filled with tears and she rushed from the table and ran straight into Izzy. The two girls stopped, glared at each other and then Isla ran, blubbering, out of the pub and Izzy sat back down.

"That was harsh, James." She said coldly.

James looked at the table, rather than at her disapproving glare.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Izzy, listen. The whole fan club thing... it's not that widespr-"

"Don't lie to me James."

"Fine. But it's not like it has anything to do with me. Not really. The war was huge and my Dad was - is the hero. Izzy, I grew up with the press following me around, they follow the whole family around! And now that I'm older I guess..."

"So you've all got fan clubs?"

"Sorry?"

"Teddy and Al and Louis and Fred and you, you've all got fangirls stalking you and printing posters of you shirtless on a broomstick?"

"Well, no... what?!"

"So it is just you. Merlin, James, you really are a egotistical prat."

"Hey, it's not like I can do much about it!"

"But you like it don't you? You like having easy pickings when it comes to dates and, and, stuff. And don't lie!"

"Well fine then, yeah! I mean, Izzy, no. I mean, ok, I'm only human, but no. Mostly it's just annoying and embarrassing."

She raised her eyebrows.

"It's true."

She sighed but seemed to accept his answer. "Still, that was mean, what you said to Isla."

"You don't know what it's like to deal with her on a daily basis. Those were croc tears, believe me." Actually James had only ever seen one girl cry in his life and he was looking at her. And he had certainly never made anyone cry before and he didn't like it.

"Still."

They were silent for a moment and then Izzy wrinkled her nose. "So you really are... very famous."

James ran a hand through his hair. "Yes." He looked at her. "So does that make you more or less likely to go out with me?"

She smiled. "Not sure yet. Give me some time to adjust, take in this new information yeah?"

"So you'll think about it?"

"Of course." James felt his heavy heart lighten a fraction but then she put a hand to her chin and then said. "Done thinking. I'm not going out with you, mate. But I commend you for your persistence."

"So I've still got a fighting chance?"

"Sure, Jamie, if that makes you happy, you can think that."

* * *

"What the hell's wrong with you?" James shouted at Fred upon entering the dormitory after dinner. Fred, who was stretched out on his bed merely raised his eyebrows. So James continued, throwing his cloak on the floor. "First you're all weird this morning and then you _steal the map _which you _know _I hate. And then you leave me alone with Isla and Izzy when you could plainly see I needed you and then you give me the cold shoulder all evening!"

"Sorry, you seem to need me so little, especially when it comes to birds, that I didn't recognize your desperation."

"What in Merlin's name is that supposed to mean?"

"Agrippa's sake, just shove off, James Sirius Potter of the fan club!"

That froze James. "So the truth comes out." Fred was jealous of him. And it made sense and James should have seen it before but that didn't make it any easier on him. Merlin, couldn't he see that deep down he'd be happy to be rid of it all?

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Overall James' day had not gone according to plan, he hadn't even got to play a prank on Izzy, not that Fred would have witnessed it anyway plus he was tired - too tired to be properly angry at his best mate/cousin. So he just sat on the edge of his bed facing Fred.

"What do you want me to do, Fred? Because if you think there's a way I can get mini-McLaggen and Finch-Fletchley and all them off my back I'm all ears."

Fred merely grunted.

"Come on, Fred, give me something I can work with."

Fred glared at him. "Maybe if you weren't so damn perfect all the bloody time!"

"See that's what I'm talking about. Alright, maybe I should become clumsy. Teddy's awfully clumsy and he never had a bloody fan club. Maybe if I act like I haven't got control of my limbs, it'll put them off."

Fred cracked a half-smile. "Maybe if you got rip-roaring drunk and snogged a statue they'd be less likely to flirt with you."

"Yeah! Next quidditch victory party - we'll smuggle in some firewhisky, yeah?"

"Yeah. Or you could just pick up some disgusting habits... like picking your nose."

"Brilliant. Or, or, or, wear my clothes inside out!"

Fred laughed. "Or stop showering."

"I could start wearing really dorky glasses."

"Begin talking in a high-pitched voice all the time."

"Spread a rumour that I've got mono."

"Give you weird scars on your arms and legs. Quit brushing your teeth. Shave your head. We should make a list."

When Fred and James' dormmates entered that night they found James and Fred sitting on James' bed, talking, laughing hysterically and tossing a quaffle back an forth.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter etc. belong to Rowling, no copyright infringement is intended.

**Disclaimer II: **As the author I am not responsible for any detriments to your health due to this story, namely (but not limited to) weeping, cursing and/or puking.

**A/N: **I decided to put in the second disclaimer after nearly vomiting during the Isla scene and my two sisters telling me that they did the same as they read it. I hope you liked this chapter despite the Isla-ness (this _should _be her final appearance but you never know) and the Fred angst (it kinda blindsided me... sorry). Also great thanks to my little sister who has not account on her but who I'll lovingly refer to as "Jeff" (yes it's a boy's name, yes she **will **respond to it in real life, no don't ask) and **Alexiroseni** (check out her stuff!) for reading this and giving me feedback!

Please let me know what you think! If you know of a good prank you want Izzy to play on Jamie or vice-versa let me know! Best Wishes, Gwen


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: Shrieking Shack**

"So it's not haunted?" I asked, warily taking in the large dilapidated two story house at the bottom of the hill.

"Nope." Fred replied easily.

"Then let's go!" I grabbed the fence with two hands, pulled myself up, straddled it and looked down at the three wizards who were in varying states of shock. "Don't make me discover the most haunted house in all of England on my own, Jamie - especially when it's not even haunted at all!"

It was the Hogsmeade weekend of February which meant Dominique, Louis, Molly, Scorpius and even Rose were off with their significant others and I was left with Albus, Fred and James for company as the first years were actually following the rules and staying at the castle this time.

"Izzy," James said slowly, "Just because it's not haunted doesn't mean we can go there."

"Yeah, the signs say 'keep out' for a reason." Al added.

"Oh don't be such babies, what's gonna be in there... a crazy witch?" Then, realizing that the only way to bring out their Gryffindor spirit was to cue their chivalry, I began to stand and let myself fall to the ground on the wrong side of the fence.

James was halfway over the fence before I hit the ground and Fred called, "Oi, Blondie, you alright?"

"I'm alright." I said from my position in the snow. I opened my eyes and saw James standing over me, his hand out. I accepted his help in getting up. "No worries, now c'mon, let's go. You wouldn't have shown me the Screeching Shack if you didn't want to explore it!"

"It's the Shrieking Shack." Al corrected. "And there's no way we're going to talk you out of this, is there?"

I shook my head.

"Too bad for you, we're not going." James said and made a move to grab me. I avoided him and ran down the hill, calling over my shoulder, "Catch me if you can!"

Upon reaching the Shack I stopped to catch my breath and turned around. I made out their figures at the top of the hill. "OH COME ON!" I called out. They didn't respond. "Fine then! I'm going to explore ALL ON MY LONESOME!" I shouted back up the hill, then turning on my heel I took in the building. The door and windows on the front of the house were all boarded up so I moved to the side.

The windows here were boarded up as well, along with the back and the other side. Maybe the boys were hesitant because knew it was a waste of time to try and get in. I was about to turn around to leave when I noticed, above the front porch, was an unboarded window. Yes! I climbed up onto the railing up the porch, ignoring the wood squeaking under my feet, grabbed onto the gutter and pulled myself onto the porch roof.

"HA!" I called in the direction of the boys who hadn't moved from their positions at the top of the hill. "YOU CAN STILL COME IF YOU LIKE!"

Carefully testing the roof before putting my full weight anywhere I made my way to the window and climbed inside. The place was filthy. Everything was in shambles, the floorboards were warped, leaving gaps and holes in the ground, there were weird scratches and cracks in all the walls and the thick layer of dirt, dust and snow coated everything. Basically it was what my house would look like if I moved out.

But other than that it wasn't creepy, at least until I entered the next room. It had probably been a bedroom once but the bed and some other pieces of furniture were in pieces, scattered across the floor. There were black burn-like marks in the walls and dark stains in the floor that I really hoped weren't blood and... was that? Yes, there were pawprints all over the place.

"Alright, Izzy. Come on, this isn't as bad as that night you spent in graveyard with Max and Dean with a laptop and 15 horror movies." I whispered to myself, "Just take a look around and then go rejoin the boys."

I was just making my way down the creaky steps when a noise stopped me in my tracks. It was a low hissing noise that sounded like a snake hissing that came from every direction and no direction at the same time.

"Hullo?" I called out, trying to keep my voice even. There was no answer and I continued down to the first floor. It was just as filthy as the upper floor with the addition of more blast marks and strange words graffitied in green on the walls, _Mudblood. Tujous Pur. Death Eater. The Dark Lord Rises. Magic is Might. Salazaar's Heir. _

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head and saw something disappear around the corner. So I followed it into the adjoining room, whistling as I went to keep myself from getting too scared (thank you _Anna and the King_).

"Hullo?!" I called out again. I caught a glimpse of another filthy and graffitied room before I was plunged into pitch darkness. I froze and tried to catch my breath. I was in total darkness, in the middle of a strange room and completely alone. I was about to start whistling again when the hissing began again. Maybe the boys were wrong and the Shack really was haunted. But it was called the _Shrieking _Shack, not the hissing shack.

I began to whistle again and took my phone out of my pocket. I opened it and the blue glow of the screen offered about half a meter of vision. Using my phone I managed to cross the room and opened the door to the next room to see a pale face staring at me.

I couldn't help it, I shrieked, louder and longer than ever. It didn't help that the face belonged to a boy's body who jumped out at me, followed by two others. Wait...

I breathed deep and collected myself. "YOU PRATS!"

James, Fred and Al burst out laughing.

"You're utter maniacs! I hate you all!"

James stepped forward and hugged me but I pushed him off. "You don't mean that, Izzy."

"Yes I do!" I snapped.

"Hey." Fred exclaimed. "What's that?!" He pointed at my phone.

"A cell phone." I replied. "It's like a telephone but it's portab- hey!"

Fred grabbed it out of my hand and began to walk around the room, shining it on different objects. "Great Merlin... I've got to get me one of these and show it to Dad. He'll go ballistic."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"This is Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder." Al replied. "The darkness is supposed to be impenetrable."

"This is so cool." James breathed, taking my phone from Fred and spinning around with it. "It's like a Hand of Glory but less gruesome."

"Can I have my phone back now?" I asked impatiently, honestly James was like a 3-year-old trapped in a 15-year-old boy's body.

Al wrestled it from his brother's grasp and returned it to me. "Come on, let's get out of here."

I grabbed his arm. "But I haven't finished exploring yet. And now that I know it was just you three 'haunting' this place I can do it without being freaked out." That was a bit of a lie, this place was creepy, but I still wanted to see the whole place.

James shook his head. "Izzy, let's go back to the Three Broomsticks, butterbeers on me."

"Uh-uh. I want to see this whole place." I stamped my foot and walked through the door they had been hiding behind.

"Not in there, Blondie!" Fred yelled, but I already was already there.

It was a large room, probably a dining room at one point and it was the cleanest of the rooms I'd been in so far. That is to say there was less dust and dirt and snow, but the walls were black with blast marks and the floor was stained rust red. On the wall, in glowing green ink, was a large skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth. Below it was written _Lord Voldemort. _

I turned, Fred stood in the doorway looking at the floor, Al stared blankly at one wall and James was walking towards me. He stood next to me, face solemn and glaring at the image before us.

"What happened here?" I asked in a hushed tone. I wasn't exactly sure why I was whispering, it just seemed like the right thing to do, like whispering in a church, a museum or a library.

"This was Riddle's head quarters in the final battle of the war." James replied, his voice tight. "That." He motioned to the skull and snake "was his symbol - the Dark Mark."

"Oh." I replied.

"Severus Snape was a secret agent for the Order of the Phoenix, though not many people knew it at the time. He was a horrible person, really, quite cruel to people he didn't like, but he was brave and committed to the cause of destroying Riddle. He died over there. Riddle murdered him." James pointed to a corner of the room.

"It's a shame they chose this place, really. This place housed Remus Lupin, werewolf, during his transformations while he was at school here. He attended back in the 70s before the wolfsbane potion was invented."

I nodded. "Wait, Lupin, why does that sound familiar?"

"Teddy Lupin." James replied. "Remus was his father - he was killed in the Final Battle, the Battle of Hogwarts we call it, along with his wife Nymphadora."

"Oh." Was all I could think to say. "That's why he grew up so close to your family, then?"

James nodded. "Come on, then, I was serious about those butterbeers."

I nodded and I let him lead me out through a loose board in a window in the next room. Fred and Al followed silently.

"I'm sorry." I told them as we hiked back up the hill. "I keep forgetting that, you know, you're lot had a war not twenty-five years ago."

"S'okay." Al replied. "Besides, that was a perfect comeback after the mysterious beeping prank."

James laughed. "So, Fred, what's the verdict?"

"Still too close to tell." He replied. "The prank war continues. And the ball is in Blondie's court."

"Hey!" I realized something. "What was with that hissing noise?"

The three of them exchanged a strange look. "What hissing noise?" James asked.

"Oh, come off it... one of you was hissing like a snake and somehow making it sound like it was coming from everywhere. I want to know how."

Fred shook his head. "Crazy bird."

"Whatever. If you want to be all mysterious, then fine." We had reached the fence by now and I climbed over it, noting three snowmen the same height as James, Fred and Al.

As we walked back to the village we talked about everything and nothing, but I noticed every now and again there was a quiet hissing noise.

By the time we sat down in a booth in the Three Broomsticks, each sipping a mug of warm butterbeer I had had enough. I slammed my drink onto the table. "Okay, either cut it out or tell me what's going on?"

"What do you mean, Isabelle?" Al asked. Okay, maybe _he _wasn't in on it, but Fred and James were both on the verge of laughter.

"Reckon you're going stark raving mad, Blondie." Fred sniggered.

"I'm serious, you two-" Suddenly a hissing noise tickled right in my ear. I jumped and James' mouth was right by my ear. I shoved him. "See, I knew you were doing it."

"Actually," Al said. "_I _was doing it. We're not real parselmouths, just imitators but I'm the best at it."

"Wait, what's a parselmouth?" I asked.

"A parselmouth speaks parseltongue, the language of snakes." James said. "Al's was the one doing it in the Shack, we charmed his voice so it would come from every direction at once."

"Well that's..."

"Creepy?" Al asked dejectedly.

"Sure." I replied. "Actually I was going to say cool, but it _is _kind of creepy, I guess."

Al's grin almost broke his face in two. "Isabelle, you are brilliant!"

James scowled. "That's just because she doesn't know the history of the talent."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

Al grimaced into his empty mug. "Parselmouths are traditionally dark wizards, Salazaar Slytherin was one... as was Tom Riddle."

"So how did you two learn to imitate it?" I asked.

James answered with a shrug, "Uncle Ron, Mum and Dad are all pretty good imitators. We're pretty sure it has something to do with the incident in the Chamber of Secrets in Dad's 2nd year. Otherwise it doesn't really make sense when you think about it - they're Golden Kids of Gryffindor. But whenever we ask about it them about it they clam up."

"Can't blame them." Al said darkly. "Mum was possesed, Uncle Ron was without a wand, Dad had to face a basilisk on his own..."

"Can I ask you something?" I asked hesitantly.

"Overlooking the obvious, 'you just did,' sure." Fred answered.

"Do your parents do that a lot? Clam up, I mean. You know, because of the war sounds just plain awful and now they've all got kids and have to live normally..."

"Well there's a reason they were all in Gryffindor." Al said. "Courage isn't the absence of fear, it's the knowledge something is more important than fear. Yeah they had to pick up the pieces afterwards, but that's what makes them heroes. Not that they won the war, but that they lived after that too."

James nodded. "And they don't clam up, actually the never shut up about it. There are three things Dad's secretive about. One, the whole Parseltongue thing. Two, what exactly he and Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione were doing in their 7th year. We know they were somehow breaking down Riddle's defenses and making him mortal, but he won't say how. And three, at the turning point of the Battle of Hogwarts when he turned himself over to Riddle to insure there wouldn't be anymore fighting and somehow managed to fake his death."

"Teddy knows." Al replied quietly. "He knows all three secrets, I think Dad will tell us when we're older."

Fred nodded. "But like James was saying, other than those three things, they _never _shut up about it. You were lucky that you came to the kids' Christmas party and the Quidditch match as sports always distracts them from the past. At any other event we'd hear at least three different accounts of Hogwarts under Umbridge, stories about the Order of the Phoenix, someone talking about getting married or falling in love in the midst of chaos... the list goes on and on."

"It's not that annoying though." James said. "The alternative - them being a bunch of bat-shit crazy coots who stare off into the distance and then say they weren't thinking about anything. Guess they figured out early on that they could be depressed, or they could beat the dead horse to oblivion and not be depressed. So, yeah. they talk about it _all the time. _I mean, for us it's normal. I can't imagine growing up not listening to war stories at the supper table. The only annoying this is the Drama."

Fred put his head in his hand and groaned. "Oh, the Drama is the worst."

Al glanced at me nervously. "You know some things are called 'Clan Secrets' for a reason... the Drama is one of those things."

I was curious now. "Wait, what's the Drama? Do they get all angst ridden and angry?"

"Don't be an ass, Al." James said throwing an arm around me. "She's a part of the Clan, or will be soon enough, anyway. We should warn her. The Drama is what we call this... habit, the older members of the Clan have. See, I guess their lives were pretty exciting when they were kids: brushes with death, attacking the ministry, starting a joke-shop, flying into the distance on the back of thestrals, hippogriffs, dragons or whatever happened to be handy. Anyway, we - the kids that is - figure they find life pretty boring now and feel this urge to make things more... interesting."

I wrinkled my nose. "I'm sorry, I'm still confused."

Al sighed. "It's bloody embarrassing it is, 'Harry, don't forget to cook the pasta or... ALL WILL BE LOST.' 'Hermione, I can't go on... you'll have to bathe the Scamander twins on you own.' 'I'm off to work, don't forget me while I'm gone, Ginny - I WILL RETURN FOR YOU.'"

I couldn't help it, I laughed so hard butterbeer dripped out of my nose. Liquids coming out of a person's nose may be funny on the telly, but in reality it stings _really bad. _"Are you three pulling my leg again?"

"Nope." Fred groaned. "My Dad's the worst, making ear-related humor all the time, 'Have fun at Hogwarts this term... just don't do anything to lose your ear.' 'Percy, you're talking my ear off, and while that may be okay for some people it's just cruel to do that to me.'"

I tried to breathe normally but couldn't help it. "Your Clan is the best!"

"It's your clan too." James remarked.

I narrowed my eyes. "What's that supposed to mean? You said that earlier, 'she's part of the clan, or will be soon anyway.' Are you insinuating something?"

"Only if you want me to, Izzy." He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that I was sure _he _thought was suggestive, but just made him look demented. I scoffed and he ran the hand that wasn't around my shoulder through his hair. "I mean... a clan member doesn't have to be related to us. He - or in this case, she - just has to, er, fill the requirements. Have some sort of special bond with the family, be a friend who's might as well be part of the family because she's _always _around."

"So... you're saying I'm basically your sister."

"NO!" All three boys exclaimed at once.

James cleared his throat. "What we mean to say is... think of Teddy. He's totally been a member of the family since birth, but he's not really anyone's brother because then it would be gross that he's marrying Vic."

I nodded slowly. "So I'm a member of the Weasley Clan... but I'm not related to any of you."

"Exactly." Al grinned.

"You're called a pseudo-clanner, Blondie." Fred explained. "So it's assumed that you'll always be around and we can be our real selves around you without worrying about the consequences. And no, we're not responsible for any sustained injuries - physical or mental - you may receive from overexposure to the clan. And we don't pay for medical bills or therapy."

"Well that's just mean of you." I replied, finishing off my butterbeer. "You should start a fund. 'Getting the Weasleys and Friends Mental Help for the Betterment of Wizarding Society' or something like that."

Al laughed. "And _that _is why you're a pseudo-clanner!"

A few hours later Tasha came to apparate me home. I hugged the boys goodbye, charged James (once more) with keeping an eye on Damian and reminded them to owl me the dates for the next Hogsmeade weekend.

When we got back to the house I flopped onto the couch, exhausted.

"Did you have a good time?" Tasha asked bringing me a cup of tea.

"Merlin yes!"

"You've been doing that a lot lately, you know."

"Doing what?" I asked idly, letting the warmth and caffeine of the tea run through me. "Swearing like a witch. It's Merlin this and Agrippa that. Circe's knickers and Merlin's pants are littering the house." "Better than my knickers and Dad's pants. But I suppose that's James' influence." Tasha sipped her tea. "Can I ask you something, Isabelle?" "Sure." I paused then asked. "It's about James and whether or not I like him, isn't it?" She nodded. I'd never really breached this topic her yet, even though I had expected her to ask if I liked him "in that way" for a while now though. It seemed to be a question _everyone _had. And they all seemed to have it already in their heads that I would answer _Yes, I am madly in love with James Sirius Potter. Tell me how to win his heart! _I hoped Tasha would be different. "He's my mate, but I _don't _like him. I don't like any blokes! I mean, I'm not lesbian, I just don't think that way about any specific boy. I really and honestly am not interested in a relationship. Is that weird?" I asked. I couldn't help but wonder if it was weird that I didn't have a crush when Sophie was half in love with anything of the male sex and my other girlfriend Rachel had a steady boyfriend.

"No." Tasha replied. "Not every 15 year old girl is ready for a relationship and I think it's pretty mature to you to recognize what you want and not try to want something else."

That put my fears to rest, but she still looked like she wanted more information. "Thanks, and on the subject of Jamie... I mean you'd have to be blind and deaf not to find him attractive. He's funny and easy to talk to and gives good advice. His family is fantastic and the prank war is brilliant. But I don't like him and everyone thinks I should. And he's rich and famous which is a little weird. And then there's that ridiculous fan club and Isla McLaggen has a vendetta against me. But at the end of the day, he's my mate and I like having him as a mate."

"If you just act normal everyone will accept that the two of you are just good friends. Don't let other people's expectations define you or you'll just end up miserable." Tasha, it seemed, always knew what to say.

* * *

**A/N: **Hullo again! Welcome to all my new readers/followers/reviewers/favorite-ers and welcome back to the non-newbies. Anyway, sorry for the long wait. I blame it on the chickens, I think they've stolen my muse. (Yes there are chickens in the house and no there's nothing I can do about it since it's not actually _my _house) If that's not a good enough reason blame the clansmen they're making things difficult. And you can also blame Ted and Andromeda for taking over my brain a few days ago. And for those of you still reading this ridikkulus A/N I was going to update yesterday but had to remember how to breathe after coming a across a possible opportunity to maybe get my real book (non-fanfiction, only a few close friends have read it, that sort of thing) *gasp* considered for publication. YAY! We should celebrate! Anyway, I hope you liked this and I hope you like the story and I the next update should be quicker!

Best Wishes, Gwen


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: March**

"So, why are you all here?" James asked, eyes narrowing. He was leaning against the fence of someone's house, facing the small wooded area that separated Hogwarts from Hogsmeade. Leaning next to him was Al and standing in a semicircle in front of him was Fred, Louis and Malfoy.

The other boys all exchanged shifty glances.

Fred spoke first. "Blondie's sure to get you back for the Shrieking Shack, I've got to be there to witness."

"Nothing better to do." Al mumbled.

"Yeah, me neither." Louis commented twirling his wand idly. "All my mates have got a girl, didn't feel like third-wheeling."

James looked at Scor. Scor looked right back. "Isabelle's fit." He deadpanned.

James nearly fell over. "What?!" He sputtered. "You-you- no! Malfoy, you are _not _allowed to say that!"

"Say what?" A voice asked. James looked over, Izzy walked up and leaned against the wall next to him, gently shoving his shoulder by way of greeting.

"Noth-" James began but Scor interrupted him. "I was just saying that I'm here because I think you're quite fit."

James watched Izzy's face as she smiled slightly and rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Scor - you're not so bad yourself. Now why are you really here? Rose having girly Al and Scor detox time?"

"Hey!" Al protested.

Scor looked like he had drunk bad milk. "No, she's with her _boyfriend._"

Izzy nodded. "I see."

Wait- what did Izzy 'see'? What was there 'see'? Was James missing something? James was about to ask when Izzy continued.

"So I was wondering, can you show me around the village? All I've seen so far is the basement of Honeydukes, the Three Broomsticks and the Shrieking Shack."

"Sure." James replied. "Come on."

"I think she was asking me, mate." Scor said, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

James eyes narrowed. "No, I really think-"

"The one who's been going to Hogsmeade the longest should lead the tour." Louis said, sidling up to her.

"Which would be me." Fred asserted. "I've been coming here ever since Dad set up shop here when I was three."

Just as Al was about to open his mouth, no doubt to make some strange claim to showing Izzy around when she interrupted them all. "Oi, testosterone turkeys, what's through these woods?"

All five heads swiveled to see Izzy was no longer amongst them but rather walking towards the edge of the woods.

"You can't go there!" Al blurted.

"Shut it, you want a re-run of the Shack?" Fred hissed.

James walked over to her. "Hogwarts." He stated simply.

Her blue-gray eyes widened. "Really?"

"You- you can't go there." Louis remarked gently, coming up next to her.

She nodded. "Oh, I know. Wish I could... but I get it." She was staring through the trees then got up on her tiptoes as though straining to catch a glimpse of the castle above the trees then tilted her head, trying to see as far around the bend as possible.

She sighed and turned around. "All right you lot if you really want to tag along you can, but James and I are going to get a butterbeer and then exploring the village. C'mon, I've been craving wizard drinks for weeks, yeah?"

* * *

"So _this _is what your post offices are like?" Izzy turned in a circle slowly, taking in everything with an unadulterated wonder.

James didn't see what the fuss was, the post office was empty except for a few clerks, a couple writing desks and the owlery with a dozen or so birds that took birdbrain to an all new low.

"You've been writing James since 2nd year, Blondie." Fred asked. "How have you not seen a wizard post office before?"

"I'd always give the letters to Tasha to post. Then last summer we bought Nike, our owl, so no, I've never been to your post offices before... How do you send a letter?"

"I'll show you." James grabbed her hand and led her to a writing desk. "Who d'you want to send a letter to?"

"Erm, I don't know. This was _your _idea." She replied.

"Send one to Alice." Al said, coming up next to her. "That girl's _obsessed _with letters and she hasn't shut up about you since the Christmas party."

"None of the ankle biters have." Louis told her. It was true, they'd all begged for Isabelle-the-Muggle to babysit them again.

She smiled. "I bet that gets annoying, but I think it's sweet of them. All right, where's a pen?"

"Here." Scor picked up a quill and tickled her ear with it. She snatched it from him and looked at it warily.

"You're not kidding?" They all just looked at her and she tossed the feather onto the desk and began to rummage through her purse. "You still use quill and ink? How primitive, not to mention messy."

She brought out a muggle pen and began to write.

"Actually it's not _that _primitive or messy." James told her. "See we've got magic to fix our mistakes and whatnot, so there really wasn't any reason to invent new writing implements. Same thing with lightbulbs, boilers and telephones and whatnot."

Isabelle looked at him and wrinkled her nose. "So you're saying magic impedes development?"

"No. I'm saying magic is a different _type _of development."

She thought for a moment then nodded. "God, I love magic. Alright, anyone want to add a postscript to Alice's letter?"

James took the parchment from her, dipped the abandoned quill in ink and added a note to Alice reminding her of her promise to learn to ride a broomstick by Easter then signed his name under Isabelle's spiky signature.

"So now what?" Izzy asked.

Louis took the letter, dried the ink with his wand and addressed it. "Now we give it to the clerk, pay for postage and he'll give it the owl he thinks can make the trip best."

"It'll get to the Leaky Cauldron in a few days at best... if the owl doesn't keel over." Al told her.

"Why would it die mid-flight?" Izzy asked.

Fred took out his wallet to pay the clerk. "Post office birds are notoriously awful. They're never right in the head and they tend to be ancient or sickly."

Izzy put her hand over Fred's. "Thanks, Fred, but I've got it. I think I've finally figured out your money and Tasha and I exchanged some at Gringotts before she apparated me here." She pulled out a few knuts and handed them to the clerk. "Alright, and now to Honeydukes, where we will actually see the shop and buy some- ack! EWW!"

"What?" James looked over at Izzy. She was frowning in disgust and looked miserable.

"Bloody owl pooped on my head! THIS is why I like muggle life better!" She wailed.

James chuckled and led her outside. "This illustrates my point exactly, we have different sets of problems, my culture and yours, but we each find different and very effective ways of dealing with said problems." He took out his wand and waved it over her yellow-blonde hair, "_Scourgify."_

Nothing happened.

James tried again. "_Scourgify."_

Al cracked a smile and bit back a chuckle. That set the others off and they all began to laugh like mad men.

"Oh, merlin. Look at your face!" Izzy shrieked through her laughter, forgetting the owl crap in her hair for a moment.

James eyes narrowed. "Am I missing something?"

"Nothing at all." Fred chuckled. "Here, Blondie, let me clean you up."

Isabelle flinched away from his wand. "Thanks, but the joke's up." She then removed James' wand from her purse and held it out to him.

James just stared. He looked at the wand in his hand, he looked at the wand in hers. They were _exactly identical. _

"What in the actual hell?" He breathed.

That just set the others off again. James rolled his eyes and took his real wand from Izzy. "That was just mean. I don't think I'll charm that crap out of your hair now."

She crossed her arms and pouted in a completely cliche way that would have been disgusting if any other girl did it, but she totally pulled it off. "Aw, c'mon, Jamie... please?"

"Nope." he said, walking away. Immediately every other boy offered to charm the crap out of her hair and his stomach twisted painfully.

"Hey, wait up." Izzy said, catching up and touching his arm.

James turned. "What?"

She flinched at his harsh tone.

"Sorry." He amended.

"Please clean my hair, Jamie?" She asked.

James sighed and waved his (real) wand over her. "There, you look lovely."

She hesitantly reached up to touch her hair then ran her hands through it. "Wow! It really worked, thanks and are you saying that I didn't look lovely when I had poop in my hair?"

"No, then you looked stunningly super-mega gorgeous. You should hang out in post offices more often."

She rolled her eyes and took his hand. "C'mon, I want to know if wizard chocolate's as good as I've heard."

They had about twenty minutes of overwhelmed and obsessive sampling and buying and eating before the other clansmen joined them. Seriously, what was wrong with them? Didn't they have lives?! Other friends?! Places to be?!

After Honeydukes he decided to show Izzy the bookstore, trying to convince himself that the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach was due to the vast amount of chocolate he had eaten.

"So do you read a lot, Jamie?" Izzy asked, running her hand along the spines of the books.

Fred laughed. "James, read? That's like asking if flobberworms fly."

Al shook his head, "He does read some. Used to read a _lot _when we were kids, though."

Izzy removed a book from the shelf. "Oooh. Look, this one's by youre Auntie Luna - that woman is a genius!"

"Er, yeah." James plucked the book from her hand and placed it back on the shelf. "Do you like novels?"

He led her away from the others and towards the fiction section.

"Yeah." Izzy replied. "I mean, I'm not as big of a reader as Sophie - that girl goes through five books a week, but I like to read, yeah. And you?"

James didn't meet her eyes. "You heard them."

The others started walking towards them. Izzy groaned, pulled a slingshot from her purse and flung a small rock at a book display, causing it to fall over, then she dragged James under a table.

"You _do _like to read, don't you? You just don't want to mess up your cool kid image." She grinned and laughed then caught herself. "Sorry, I shouldn't laugh, but honestly, what would be so bad about people knowing that you're a smart bloke who enjoys the written word?"

James shrugged. "I don't know - it's just not expected, really. I'm Harry and Ginny Potter's son. I'm charismatic and great at Quidditch. I don't like reading or school."

She scoffed. "That's dumb. You _do _know that if you live up people's expectations now, you'll be doing it the rest of your life, right?"

James just shrugged again.

Izzy played with the tablecloth that was keeping them hidden. "So what's your favorite book?"

James looked at her, then shook her head. "No, it's dumb."

"Aw, c'mon, please? I'll tell you mine and it's embarrassing too. _The Joy of Cooking, _I read it at least once a month."

"And you say you hate baking." James replied shaking his head. "Okay, but you can't tell anyone - it's _Hogwarts, A History._"

"Sounds interesting."

He raised his eyebrows.

"No, I really mean it. D'you, do you think it's alright for a muggle to read Wizard books?"

The thought hadn't occurred to James - he supposed there might have been a rule against it, but then again dumb rules were meant to be broken. "Probably not. C'mon, I'll buy you a couple if you want."

He crawled out from under the table only to come face to face with Isla McLaggen.

"James?" She asked.

"Isla?"

"Oof, Jamie, your legs are in the way!" Izzy's head popped out from under the table. "Oh, hullo."

"Hullo." Isla replied coldly.

Instantly the perfect revenge for the fake wand popped in his head. It was so evil it was laughable. He took out his wand and murmured the incantation under his breath then helped Izzy up.

"Fancy seeing you in a library, Isla." He said.

"Yeah." She replied holding a book behind her back. "Getting a replacement Potions book, mine fell in my cauldron last week."

"Ah. Well, Izzy was interested in some wizard books, so we'll just be on our way."

Isla pursed her lips together. "Yeah, I'm sure that's _exactly _what she was- Merlin's pants! Isabelle?!"

"What?" Izzy was still ignorant.

Isla just pointed at her chest. "What- what- did Maureen give that to you?"

"Uh..." She looked down and saw it: she was wearing an official I 3 JSP hot pink t-shirt. Her face flushed bright red and her eyes narrowed. She was either very mad or very embarrassed. James guessed both. "No. James got it for me, I was hesitant about joining, but it seems James wants as many members as possible."

"That's what I think too!" Isla nearly shrieked. "I have to go! Ta-ta!" She ran off and Izzy rounded on James.

"That. Was. Pure. Evil. James. Sirius. Potter." She accompanied every word with a slap to the head.

James shoved her playfully. "Hey, you made it look like I was endorsing it! _That _was evil!"

"You might as well be if you charm shirts to look like this!" She whisper-yelled.

"To look like what?" Malfoy asked, approaching them.

She turned and pointed to her chest. "Like THIS!"

Malfoy cracked a smile - not a smirk, a real smile. James hadn't known it was possible for Malfoy to smile.

"What's up?" Louis asked. "Oh sweet merlin. Did James do that?"

Izzy nodded and Fred guffawed. "Oh that's rich - that's perfect. As official judge, this prank war is still on!"

"Do you want me to fix it?" Al asked.

Izzy shook her head. "No, it's fine. I don't really like magic to be used on me, anyway."

"C'mon, Blondie." Fred grinned. "I'll take you to my Dad's shop. You can't use any of the stuff, but it'll give you ideas for revenge."

So they trooped out of the bookstore, down the street and into WWW. They had barely entered when a Scottish voice tore through the noise of the joke shop.

"_CHECK YOUR MESSAGES, LAZY-ARSE!" _

"Wha-?" Fred asked.

Izzy's cheeks flushed red. "Sorry, sorry." She called out to the general public who were all looking at her like she was mad. She took her phone from her purse mumbling something about changing her text-alert sound.

"Is that a felly-tone?" Louis asked.

Izzy shook her head and punched a bunch of numbers randomly on it. "No, it's a telephone, but it's not even that - it's my mobile. Sorry, about this, I'll just text Max that I'm busy."

"Max Forbes?" James asked. "How is he?"

"Good. Sophie too, she asks after you, like, every morning."

Scor peeked over her shoulder. "You're writing into it."

"Yep." Izzy replied and shifted to let him and the others see the screen. "Wait just a moment and... see he replied. Quicker than owls, eh? And cleaner too."

In one fast movement Al snatched the phone away from her. "Isabelle, that's dangerous!"

She wrinkled her nose. "Uh, James, what's wrong with your little brother?"

"Never talk to something if you can't see where it keeps it's brain!" Al said reverently.

James rolled his eyes. "Give it here, Al. It's not dark magic, it's technology." He took the phone from his brother, and rang up Max.

It rang twice, then Max's voice came through the phone, clear as day.

"Isabelle?"

"Hullo, Max? No, it's James Potter."

"James Potter from the football match?"

"The very same. Now, can you tell me, and this may sound weird, but what shirt was I wearing that day?"

"Uh, I don't know... wait, yeah, Soph says it was an AC-DC one, why?"

"No reason." James replied glaring at Al. "My younger brother's just a paranoid prat."

"James! Give me that!" Izzy took the phone from him. "Hi, Max, yeah sorry about that... No, remember what I said about him and his family being just odd like that... No they're not Amish!... Yeah, just visiting for, erm, family weekend... No you can't come it's _family _weekend...What? Oh hullo, Sophie... No!... Because I said so that's why!... I'll tell him you say 'hullo' but I'm not repeating _that!_... Whatever, I'll see you both on Monday." She huffed and slid the phone closed. "Sorry about that, Sophie says 'hullo' James."

"Right, erm, hullo Sophie?"

She smiled then looked past him and her smile widened into a grin. "Molly!"

In a flash of dark reddish-brown Molly appeared seemingly out of nowhere and enveloped Izzy in one of those girly friendship-y hugs. In another moment Rose materialized and joined the estrogen-filled reunion.

They finally separated but remained close. "Rose, how are you? I hear you're seeing someone?"

Rose just rolled her eyes. "_Scorp_ told you that, didn't he? I am _not _dating Morgan Price, I just happen to prefer his company to Scorp's and Al's at times. Variety, you know?"

Izzy nodded.

"Hey, Isabelle." Molly said. "We were just about to leave - we're headed over to Teen Witch, they've got a special on muggle-styled robes. Do you want to come?"

Izzy turned to look at James. "I'll catch up with you later, Tasha's picking me up at the Three Broomsticks at five."

"Alright." James heard himself say.

"Great, I need a new shirt, anyway." She said with a friendly glare and left arm in arm with Rose and Molly.

Then, as if on queue, Fred felt the need to find his Dad, Al and Scor remembered that they had promised to meet up with some Slytherin friends at the Hogshead and Louis needed replacement quidditch gloves. Something fishy was going on with them and he didn't like it - not one bit.

* * *

James stared into his twelfth butterbeer feeling the tiniest bit tipsy from the small amount of alcohol he had consumed. Actually, he was only pretending it was the butterbeer. Deep down he knew that his queasiness and slight headache was due to something else entirely and it all revolved around Scor, Al, Fred and Louis who were seated in the booth with him.

Izzy entered the pub, large shopping bag in hand and sat next to him, disrupting his glum thoughts.

"So, James, what are you pouting for?" She asked by way of greeting.

"I'm not pouting, only pansies pout. I am brooding."

Izzy scoffed.

"At least I didn't spend the last _two hours _shopping!" He retorted.

"I'm a girl, Jamie, girls shop!"

"Girly-girls shop." James countered.

Izzy rolled her eyes. "Just because I whoop arse at football and would _kill _to play Quidditch, doesn't mean I can't like shopping. But what's wrong? This time be serious James."

"Well Miranda Isabelle..."

"That's not what I meant, Jamie! Oh look, Tasha! Over here."

Tasha approached the table. "C'mon, Isabelle, if we don't get back soon your Dad will start making dinner and that's always a disastrous."

Izzy nodded then enveloped James in a big hug. "See you later, I suppose. No Hogsmeade weekend in April."

"You should come by the Burrow over Easter hols." James replied easily. "Afterall, you are a clanner."

She smiled. "Alright, see you around Easter then."

The thrill that coursed through James' body upon noticing that none of the other boys received a goodbye hug when he saw that _they _noticed too and were pouting rather obnoxiously.

After Izzy and Tasha apparated with a crack they all stood to leave but James banged his butterbeer down on the table to get their attentions. "Wait. Sit."

They glanced at each other and obeyed. Al looked slightly fearful while Louis looked curious and Scor and Fred looked amused.

James got right to the point. "You followed Izzy around like a band of lost puppies today. I'm telling you right now, stop. Just stop it, okay?"

"Stop what?" Fred demanded.

James took another swig of butterbeer, hoping against hope that it had somehow been spiked in the last five minutes. He was disappointed but that only served to further his resolve. "I'm not an idiot. You all _like _her and I'm telling you to cut it out!"

A strange shadow seemed to pass over Malfoy's face. "Wait a mo, James - _you _like her, don't you?!"

James nearly choked on his own spit. "What?"

Fred and Malfoy exchanged a look. And Fred cried. "You really do. You've been crushing on Blondie since day one!"

James took a moment to compose himself. He looked at his drink and then decided to take the easiest - not to mention most honest route. "No."

"No?" Malfoy asked skeptically.

"No." James reaffirmed. "Isabelle Miranda Cross is a lovely girl and my best mate outside my family. But I do not _like her _like her. But as her best mate - seriously just cut it out. It's embarrassing for everyone involved and awkward. Besides, she doesn't want a boyfriend, so you're just wasting your time."

They nodded.

James stood. "Good. Now, c'mon or we'll be late for dinner."

"You're certain you don't like her, though, James?" Louis asked.

"Yeah. I'm positive." James nodded, pretending to ignore the sarcastic "_Right..." _that Fred was whispering to Malfoy.

* * *

**A/N: **Hey y'all! Thank you all for everything! Sirius-ly YOU are why I write. A chocolate chip almond cookie to every favorite-er and follower. Two chocolate chip almond cookies to reviewers! I hope you liked this chapter! I swear updates will be more frequent now that the weather is nicer because for me snow days = longer work days. As always thanks to Alexiroseni for beta-ing!

FUNNY STORY YOU DON'T HAVE TO READ ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE: So I am regularly charged with the care of several small humans. One of said small humans has the middle name: James. I found myself inclined to call him by his first and second name regularly and not just when he was in trouble like with the other small humans. After a few days pondering this anomaly I realized... I just liked having an excuse to say "James."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: Easter Hols**

Platform 9 and 3/4 was busier than I thought it would be even though James said that less students went home for Easter Hols. I was walking through the sea of students and witches and wizards, searching vainly for a familiar face when a pair of strong arms hugged me from behind.

"Izzy!"

Grinning, I turned around to hug him properly. "Jamie!"

"Isabelle!" Another voice greeted me.

"Molly!" I hugged her too and then I was attacked by my scrawny, but healthy younger brother.

"Sis!"

"Damian!"

James ruffled his hair. "Fuzz!"

I wrinkled my nose. "Fuzz?"

James nodded solemnly. "Fuzz."

"Ok" I turned to my brother. "Welcome home, Fuzz."

"Good to be back, _Izzy_." He replied.

"No, Isabelle." I stated sharply.

"Then, no Damian." He replied just as sharply.

Apparently James has a thing for embarassing and exclusive nicknames. "Alright, alright." A shock of bright red hair distracted me. "Louis!"

He grinned and hugged me."Isabelle!" He had grown quite a bit since March and he now had fang earring like his Dad.

I was pulled from his embrace into another boy's. "Isabelle."

"Hullo, Scorpius." I released him and hugged the Weasley next to him. "Rose, how are you? Keeping this git and Al in line?"

She sighed melodramatically. "A girl can only do so much. They've got nearly as many detentions as James and Fred." Then she grinned and I could tell she was joking. I was about to tell her I'd bet good money that she had more detentions than both of them when I was nearly tackled by a tiny redheaded fireball.

"ISABELLE!"

"Lily! How's Hogwarts treating the flower of the Potter family?"

"Flower, this girl's a regular lioness for Gryffindor." Al said coming up to us. "So you're ready to go? Mum's over by the _Prophet _stand."

I gave Lily one last hug. "See you tomorrow at the Burrow."

"Wait." Al grabbed my arm, looking confused. "You're coming with us."

"What?"

"Hey, James! James Potter!" Al dragged me over to where his brother stood talking with their Mum.

"Albus, unhand the fair maiden!" James said.

Al released me. "Don't call me Albus and I thought she was coming over."

James winced. "Er. Thanks Al, what I _said _was I was going to _ask _her if she _wanted _to come over. Which I haven't done yet."

I laughed. "Am I really invited to your house?" I directed the question partially at James, partially at Mrs. Potter.

James nodded.

"Would you like to come over, Isabelle?" Mrs. Potter asked.

"I'd love to come! Oh wait, my plan!"

"Your plan?" James asked.

"Yeah, there's all this stuff I have to make sure happens in this very short week of vacation and tonight is supposed to be family dinner. I'll see you tomorrow, though..."

James ran a hand through his hair and I could tell he was upset. "Yeah, I'll see you then. It's Fuzz's hols too and family comes first so..."

"Well, hullo James." Dad said joining us.

"Hullo, Mr. Cross." James said, shaking his hand. "I was just seeing if Izzy would like to come over to my house for the afternoon and dinner but she said she has plans, so we'll just see you at the Burrow tomorrow."

Dad put a hand on my shoulder. "You don't have plans, though, Isabelle."

"Dad!" I hissed. "It's family night!"

"Nonsense. Listen, Tasha just got an owl that she has to work tonight, so it wouldn't be the whole family anyway. You go have fun at the Potters, we'll spend time as a family on Thursday, the chill day."

I rolled my eyes, exasperated. "Dad, Tuesday is the chill day, but not really because Damian will need to repack and-"

Dad waved away my protests. "And Tasha can pack him in three seconds time with her wand. Now, Ginny, I really think it'd be too much of a hassle for her to come back home when we're coming for lunch at the Burrow tomorrow anyway, so..."

"She can stay the night." Mrs. Potter finished for him. "It really simplifies everything - Harry's on the Continent at the moment, as is Ron - so Hermione and I were going to pack up the kids and go to the Burrow tonight for all of Easter hols anyway. She'll stay with Molly, Lucy and Rose and you can bring her home tomorrow evening."

"Excellent." Dad replied.

"But Dad," I protested. "I haven't any clothes!"

"I'll owl you some things. Have a good time with James. Damian and I will have a grand time without you."

I looked at him, then at Damian, they really didn't care and I really wanted to go.

"Alright, but let Tasha send me clothes - you have horrid taste."

He laughed and kissed the top of my head. "Sure thing. See you tomorrow, dear."

"See you Dad." I hugged him, then Damian and turned back to James.

"Er... you don't mind, do you, Jamie? I mean, you won't get bored or...?"

"Nonsense, Izzy. C'mon, let's go. It's first day of hols and Kreacher always makes something delicious." With that he grabbed my head and led me through the crowd of witches and wizards, the unsubstantial brick barrier, and the oblivious commuters, outside and behind the station where Rose, Al and Mrs. (Hermione) Weasley were gathered around an old golf club.

"A portkey?" I asked.

James nodded and I held back a groan. Was it reasonable to believe that these transportation spells affected me worse because I'm a muggle? Who knows; I'd bring it up with Granddad Wasley later, or Molly - she was a bit of a magical theory buff.

"Well this is it. Home sweet home." James said opening the door. The Potter's house was average size, nicer than most houses but not exorbitant. It was painted a nice happy yellow and cream, it was the kind of house that exuded 'home' the moment you entered.

"It's lovely!" I said removing my jacket.

"If Kreacher could help, Miss." A voice cackled.

I turned and had to hold back a scream. A small hook-nosed, wrinkly creature took my jacket with a cruel grin.

"Jamie what in the nnrghk!" I managed.

"Hullo Kreacher." James said dragging his trunk into the entryway. "This is our guest, Isabelle Cross. Izzy, this is Kreacher, our house elf."

Kreacher hung up my coat in the front closet then turned to bow to me, the locket on his chest nearly hitting the floor. "Salutations, and will Miss be staying for supper?"

I just nodded, still shocked by his rather repulsive appearance.

"Come on." James took my hand. "I'll show you around while Kreacher sets out tea."

"James." I asked, following him up the steps into a sitting room upstairs. "Um, what is Kreacher?"

James looked confused as he opened a door. " Oh yeah, you don't have house elves. Well, their funny creatures. They love helping out, being servants and whatnot and it's rare that you'll find one who lets you pay him, but there are laws and stuff to keep them from being abused or overworked. Anyway, this one's Dad's office, full of books and stuff."

"So... he's like your maid?"

James nodded. "And cook, Mum and Dad are both bullocks in the kitchen."

I shuddered.

"What?"

"Well, you have to admit, he looks a little... sinister. And maids are just plain creepy. I mean, think about it: someone coming in and touching and moving and cleaning _everything._ It's just weird."

"Have you ever had a maid? It's nice."

I nodded. "After Mum died the Forbes' paid for a sixth month maid service. Thrice a week some random lady would come, shake her head at Dad's messes and clean it all. I hated it from day one and kept her locked out of my room. After the first month I cancelled it and just cleaned everything myself."

James pointed out which room was which. "Mum and Dad's room, mine, Al's, Lily's and guest room. How old were you, again? When your Mum passed, I mean." James asked.

"Nine. I mean it was hard at first because I hardly knew how to scrub a toilet, but it was better than the alternative, you know?"

"Sure." He replied skeptically.

I scoffed as he led me back downstairs. "You really don't care that things touches and moves all your stuff?"

"Uh, I'd have to do it otherwise." James said. "And this is the sitting room."

I looked around, like the rest of the house it was painted a happy pale yellow with a dark orangey-red trim. The couches were all the overstuffed kind and I plopped down onto one. They were as comfy as they looked.

I noticed something strange on the mantel above the fireplace. "Who plays the trumpet?"

"What? Oh, no one."

I grinned. "You do, don't you?! Merlin, that's so-"

"No." James contradicted easily. "I really don't. No one in this house plays the trumpet."

He was serious. "Ok, so... why is there a trumpet on your mantel?"

"My Uncle Ron. He got this engraving kit and decided to buy a trumpet, engrave it and give it to my Dad."

"Was it, I don't know, his birthday or something?"

James shook his head. "Nope. Have you met Uncle Ron?"

I thought back, there were five Weasley men: Bill, Louis' Dad, the cursebreaker who looked like he'd been mauled by a panther. Charlie was the bachelor Uncle who took them on adventures but I'd never met. Percy was Molly's Dad, a bit... nerdy, but fatherly at the same time. George was Fred's Dad who owned the Joke Shop franchise and that left Ron as Rose's Dad. "Yeah, we've met. He was the one going on and on about the Cannons."

"Yeah, well, the less you get to know him the better; the man's barmy."

I smiled. "You don't mean that."

"I do. I mean, he's great and he's been Dad's best mate since they were kids but... he's barmy. Exhibit A." He pointed to the trumpet.

"I love your clan." I remarked happily, staring up at the ceiling.

"_Our _clan." He reminded me.

Kreacher entered. "Tea is ready, Miss Isabelle and Young Master Potter."

I followed at a distance and mouthed. "_Young Master Potter?"_

Jamie just rolled his eyes and pulled out a chair for me. "Dad's Master Potter, Mum's Missus Potter. I'm Young Master Potter since I'm the oldest son, Al is Master Albus and Lily is Miss Lily but when she gets older she'll be Miss Potter since she's the oldest, well, only girl. It's all protocol crap and _very _important to Kreacher."

I nodded and sat down taking in the spread before me. If this was 'tea' no wonder the clan meals were like feasts and I briefly wondered what their holiday feasts were like. Scones, fruit, muffins, tea cake, chocolate pastries and roast beef sandwiches adorned the table. There was, of course, tea but there were five different options: black chai, herbal, "Heartwarming," "Patience" (of which Mrs. Potter poured herself a large mug) and "Spiritual." Lily poured a small cup of the Spiritual blend for everyone.

I took a sip of Lily's tea and nearly spat it back out. "What is this?"

Lily sighed dramatically. "The taste isn't pleasant but it's the most effective brew for divining the future."

I raised my eyebrows and James leaned in to whisper in my ear. "I know it tastes like rat piss, but just go with it. And feel free to tune her out when she makes her predictions."

I nodded, finished the disgusting concoction and washed it down with some black chai. Lily collected each of our cups and began to stare into into them, beginning with her Mum's.

"Mum, prepare yourself for exciting and life changing news that may or may not bear fruit for some time to come."

Mrs. Potter nodded solemnly and hid a small smile behind her sandwich.

"Now for the guest." Lily said."Isabelle you... wait... ah!" She shrieked then looked in both her brothers' cups, shrieked again collected all three cups and raced out of the room.

"Uh, is that normal?" I ask hesitantly.

"Depends on how you define normal." Al replied then tried to steal his sister's biscuits only to receive a slap on the hand from his mum.

After stuffing ourselves with food and tea I leaned contentedly back in my chair. "So what now?"

James polished off another pumpkin pasty. "We could go flyyyy- nevermind."

I stood. "No worries, if you two want to fly, I'll just watch."

James shook his head. "How about- oh look, post's here."

I smiled as my family's owl, Nike, flew easily through the window then wrinkled my nose in confusion when she dropped only a small change purse in my lap."Uh... I thought I asked for clothing."

"Just see what's inside." Al remarked with a small smirk.

I obey. "Oh. It's bigger on the inside! Magic is so totally cool!" Tasha packed everything I needed plus a few extras, my football being the most notable. I grin. "C'mon, it's high time this Clan was introduced to football."

I began with just teaching them how to kick and dribble without sending the ball flying and we started to sort of play keep away but it was like playing with a couple of cones... cones who believe in using hands and bodychecks to get the elusive black and white ball.

When Lily comes outside and Hugo and Rose join us from next door we split boys vs. girls and devise a new game with no secure rules but includes the football, a snitch, trees for goals and one player on the ground, and the other two on broomstick.

"So who exactly won?" Hugo pants as we drink from the backyard had played until we were all nearly incapable of movement and I was surprised to see the sun was quite low in the sky.

I scoff. "Us of course!"

"Hey, Isabelle, do you want to see our house?" Rose asked.

I nodded and we ran across the large field that was both hers and the Potter's back yard. Rose's house was a quaint stone cottage and there was a bookcase full of books in _every room. _The mud room's bookshelf had books on cleaning and house maintenance, the kitchen's had cookbooks and the living room had novels of every size and genre. The bathrooms were filled with books on medicine and healthy living, the hallway had parenting and pregnancy books and her parents' office had books on law and politics and history. From what I could see through Hugo's open door his bookshelf was full of Quidditch, Transfiguration and Potions books and Rose's room was a verifiable library. Her canopy queen sized bed which was covered in books and papers and quills was against one wall and the other four were covered with bookshelves. There were textbooks, children's books, atlas', travel books and novels, some of which were definitely muggle and that I had read myself.

"Funny." I remarked. "I hadn't really noticed how much your family loves books until now."

Rose cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Seriously?" I flopped onto her bed next to her. "There's a bookcase in every room... with books on them."

She shook her head. "No, there's no books in the... I mean... Merlin! We really do have books in every room, don't we?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Well," Rose tossed her red mane over her shoulder. "Dad doesn't read too much, even when it's for work he gets Mum to read it for him and then summarize and explain it for him. And having lots of books isn't that weird... the house is just so small that we we have to spread them out in every room."

"Oh yeah?" I ask. "Name a person who has more books than your family."

"Scor." She replied easily. "He's got a library like from _Beauty and the Beast. _You've seen that one, right? I saw it with my mum's parents so..."

"Yeah." I replied. "But does Scor honestly have a library that huge?"

"Course he does," A new voice said. James entered Rose's bedroom. "Bloke lives in a mansion. Now c'mon, we're almost ready to go to the Burrow. Bring what you want and don't forget your broom, it's supposed to be brill flying conditions all week!"

"Hurry up you three!" I heard Mrs. Potter called from downstairs. "I'm sure your Grandmum is anxious to tell you how thin you all are!"

When we came downstairs the other were gathered around... the fireplace. Not wanting to be rude I tried to ask in the most cheerful manner. "Flooing, are we?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Ginny and I will apparate with the luggage, but you kids will go on first via floo."

I nodded and steeled myself. I could do this, I could do this, I could do this, I saw Hugo disappear in a burst of green flames. "I can't do this." I whimpered.

"What was that Izzy?" James asked from behind me.

"Nothing." I said quickly. I took a deep breath grabbed a handful of green powder and stepped into the fireplace. "The Burrow."

I shut my eyes tight and allowed myself to be spun around and around fully expecting to stop at any moment. Except the spinning didn't stop.

* * *

Someone was stroking my knuckles. No one had ever stroked my knuckles before. It was a weird sensation but extremely soothing, which was nice considering my throat felt like the Sahara and my head felt like Mount Vesuvius. The stroking stopped. That was bad. Why had it stopped?

"Hey." I rasped reaching out to force the elusive hand to resume its stroking.

"Izzy?" Jamie's excited voice came through a thick fog in my brain.

I wrenched my eyes open. There were three faces above mine: James', Percy Weasley's and Grandmum Weasley's. I tried to speak again but only managed a hacking cough.

"Sh, sh, dearie." Grandmum Weasley said gently. "Don't try to talk, that was a nasty fall you took. Alright, Percy, help me sit her up."

As they gently leaned me against the wall I saw I was in the Burrow's living room. Molly entered with a cup of water which I immediately downed.

"Thanks, what happened?"

"Far as we can tell you fainted while in between fireplaces." Mr. Weasley said adjusting his glasses. "The when you landed here you fell out of the fireplace and promptly hit your head on the floor."

I touched my forehead and felt a bruise forming. "Right."

Grandmum Weasley took a small bottle from her pocket. "Take this, it'll eliminate any side effects in case of concussion."

I shook my head, wincing slightly. "I'd rather not. I've had enough magic for one day."

"But what if you really _do _have a concussion Izzy?" James asked.

I shrugged. "The same thing all muggles do, just keep an eye on me and if I throw up or faint again take me to the hospital."

They didn't seem convinced but Mr. Weasley finally nodded. "Alright, supper's ready."

"Are you alright?" James said bringing me to my feet.

I took a moment to find my balance then nodded confidently. "I'll be okay. Sorry for worrying you though."

He nodded and we entered to kitchen only to be attacked by redheads.

"Isabelle!"

"Isabelle are you okay?"

"Isabelle you were so white!"

"Isabelle why did you take a nap in the fireplace?"

"Isabelle, what happened?"

"OI!" James called through the din. "Give her space and yes, she's fine!"

"Sit by me." said a little redhead I remembered as Oscar from the Christmas party.

I obeyed and James took the spot on my other side. The food was good and there was plenty of it and as I ate I tried to stick names to faces. I knew Molly, of course, and Lucy was Damian's classmate but James helped me identify Owen, Amelia and Charlotte.

"So, Isabelle," Graddad Weasley smiled at me from across the table. "Have you come across any new information about Aeroplanes?"

I shook my head. "Sorry no. But there's this man whose mass producing these small ones that collapse into cars. Of course you have to be a pilot to own one but still, the media's calling it the first flying car."

For one reason or another this made Grandmum Weasley scowl and Granddad Weasley's eyes sparkle. "Are they now?"

I nodded. "I have a question about magic though. I'm sure you noticed my... er, accident earlier and since transporting spells are always, well, uncomfortable for me I was wondering if you've got any information on that."

"Hm... are you implying that transportation spells affect you worse since you're a muggle?"

I nodded.

Mr. (Percy) Weasley rubbed his chin. "Now that's interesting."

"Why didn't you tell us that?" James demanded.

"What?" I asked. "I didn't know that I would faint."

He scowled. "Does all magic hurt you?"

I thought a moment. "No. Like when you charmed my hair or my shirt or when they fixed my tailbone that one time or when you cleaned my hair... it's just the transportation magic like apparition, port-keys and flooing. Which is... weird."

"Not so weird." Lucy commented. "I mean, think about it. That kind of magic's all about taking apart a person and putting them back together in another place. Maybe the magic doesn't know how to put a muggle back together."

Lily shook her head. "It's all about space-time, really. Wrinkles in time and wibbly-wobbly lines, though it still makes sense that it would be harder for a muggle to follow the curves that the magic makes in the continuum."

James nodded. "Like how it's easier for Vic and Dom to perform nonverbal magic since Veelas don't use wands at all."

Molly shook her head. "No, that's all a load of bullocks from the muggle show Lil loves. But this isn't time travel, it's just traveling across distances."

"But isn't that the same thing?" I countered. "I mean, I'm not pretending to be a quantum physicist, but I'm pretty sure Dad talked about how time is just the fifth dimension. So if we can travel across space, why not time as well?"

Hugo slammed his hand down on the table. "TANGENT! We're trying to figure out why Isabelle fainted, not discussing theories behind time travel. Which, by the way, is completely possible - talk to my Mum about it."

"Alright." Al looked at me. "Do you faint often?"

"No. And I didn't eat anything funny either. Unless you count Gran's ten year old biscuits, which I really don't."

"You went to your Gran's this morning?" Granddad Weasley asked.

I nodded. "Gran and Gramp live outside London so Tasha, Dad and I apparated there this morning before going to the King's Cross. Shoot, now that I think about it, it would've made more sense to do it after-"

"Wait, you apparated, port-keyed _and _flooed all in one day?" Granddad Weasley said. "Now that's taxing, no matter who you are."

"Yeah, but full out fainting?" James asked.

Rose cleared her throat to get everyone's attention. "Conclusion: the magic involved in transportation spells, for one reason or another, are more taxing on muggles than wizards and witches, hence the buildup of several spells over one day proved too much for Isabelle's systems and she shut down. All in agreement?"

There was a chorus of 'yes' and I heard Lily mumble under her breath, "Taking a person apart and putting them back together my arse, it's all to do with the fabric of space-time."

"Course of action: no more transportation spells!" James commanded.

"Well, not too many." I amended. "I mean, I still have to _get _places."

James looked like he wanted to argue but then Grandmum Weasley tapped him on the shoulder. "James, dear, can you get the cake from the kitchen? And Rose, love, can you, Hugo and Molly clear the dishes? Lily, Lucy, Al, sweethearts, you two bring the leftover food in the kitchen. And Owen, Amelia, can you two set about refilling the water and pumpkin juice pitchers?"

They nodded and set about their tasks while the adults talked. I got up and found James in the kitchen struggling to levitate three cakes at once.

"Let me help you with that." I took one and brought it to the table only to be assaulted by Grandmum Weasley. "James Sirius! Oh you're so much like your namesakes! Take this from your friend, she's a guest and-"

I cut her off. "Please, Grandmum, don't. I want to help, I'm barely a guest here anyway you know. Everyone reckons I may as well be related."

She patted my cheek. "But dear-"

"Would you take this cake away from Teddy, or Scor, Grandmum?"

She sighed and smiled. "No, I don't suppose I would. In fact, if I am to treat you like a grandchild, then I must tell you that your jumper is far too tight; you'll give the wrong impression."

I grinned. "Thanks, Grandmum." I set the cake on the table and sat next to Jamie. "At this rate I'll have four sets of Grandparents, that's more than Max and Sophie."

He raised his eyebrows. "Four?"

"Mum's, Dad's, your's and Tasha's."

"So... your Dad and Tasha are..."

"Well, it's not official yet. Actually, that's probably what Dad and Damian are talking about now. See, I found the ring before he even proposed, so I knew early. It'll be the end of this summer or next summer most likely."

Grandmum Weasley began cutting the cake and James handed me a plate. "Merlin, I hope it's next summer. We've got Ted and Vic in June and Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron's twentieth anniversary in July one more would be too much for a bloke to stomach."

I wrinkled my nose. "Who said you'd be invited anyway?"

James choked on a bit of cake. "What do you mean? I'm the whole reason they're together!"

I sat back in my chair and raised my eyebrows. "And just how do you figure that one?"

"If I hadn't been there _that night. _Your father would never have met Tasha Prewitt."

"What's that about Tasha, James?" Grandmum Weasley. "Such a lovely girl, really takes after her father."

"Sorry, do you know Tasha?" I asked.

Grandmum Weasley nodded. "I'm a Prewitt by birth. Tasha's my second cousin's daughter."

"Oh, well, she's seeing my Dad." I told her.

"That's lovely." Grandmum Weasley looked like she wanted to say more but Rose called her attention away.

"See?" James said elbowing me lightly. "You have to invite me, we're relations."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll tell Tasha. Though I doubt if she'll invite such distant relatives."

"Oh you better bet on it. Wizarding weddings go two ways: eloping or an enormous spectacle in which everyone you've ever met comes whether he's invited or not. You better rent a big hall."

I shook my head. "Crosses get married in churches. Always."

James heaved a deep sigh. "Well, I guess it's fated then. Weasley-Potters get married at the Burrow. Always. We'll never get married."

I shook my head sadly. "Ah, what a shame. Can't say I'm too upset though, you've got doofy hair and glasses. I wouldn't want to marry a bloke with doofy hair and glasses."

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with my hair!"

"Seriously, though, does it _ever _lie flat?" I asked. Actually I had been curious about this for a long time. It was like when God made him he took tufts of black hair, gelled them stiff and then stuck them in random places all over his head.

"Nope!" Jamie grinned. "It's Potter hair. Grandmum Weasley still hasn't given up on Dad's hair, though I think she's given up on Al and me."

"You're one to talk." Al said. "I was attacked by five combs the moment I walked through the fireplace. She just gave you off since you were helping the fair maiden."

I narrowed my eyes. "I may be a fair maiden but I can still whip your arse at... a sport we can both play. Shoot, that sentence began a lot better than ended."

"Running?" Molly offered.

I shook my head. "Running is recreational, I don't believe in making a contest."

"Er... swimming?" Molly asked. "Muggles _do _swim, right?"

"Course they swim." James said. "But we haven't a pool, so..."

I sighed. "Suffice it to say that I am not a fair maiden. I'm a... warrior maiden. Gosh, I sound like something from Lord of the Rings."

"Oooh!" Rose squealed. "Who do you like best, Galadriel, Arwen or Eowyn?"

* * *

The next day dawned bright and early leaving me wondering if it was indeed the best idea to convince Grandmum Weasley that I was just another grandchild to order about. I guess that going through two wars and raising six kids made her The Amazing Housewife. She had no qualms about ordering her husband, son and daughter, daughters-in-law and grandchildren about. I was put on bedroom duty with Molly. We removed the barrier between hers and Lucy's bedroom and Amelia and Charlotte's and set up several cots for the rest of the girls. Then we did the same thing with Owen and Oscar's room and the upstairs sitting room for the boys to sleep in.

People started arriving as early as ten and the floo barely stopped flaming after that and by around noon the house was packed. I'm serious. What with a huge kitchen, dining room, playroom, two sitting rooms, and a huge backyard on which the sun was shining warmly, one would think it wouldn't be so crowded - it was. Not only was the whole clan there along with the usual pseudo-clanners (who've I've come to realize were myself, Damian, Daeda, Scor, Teddy, Neville, Hannah, Frank and Alice Longbottom and Luna, Rolf, Lorcan, Lysander and Freya Scamander) there were a bunch of other people for James to introduce me to.

"Do you think they're expecting me to remember their names?"

James shook his head. "Uh-uh, they'll probably remember yours though. Afterall, you and your family are the only new ones this year."

We passed by the kitchen on the way outside. Grandmum Weasley was taking bread out of the oven, filling the air with a sweet and warm aroma and I felt my stomach clench painfully. "Isabelle, do you think you can help me in the kitchen?"

"Uh, I- I've got to, uh." I stammered.

"Oh, go on, Izzy." James pushed me lightly toward the kitchen. "Grandmum, force her to make fudge. You won't regret it."

"Uh, no, that is. I haven't my recipes..." But James was already gone, leaving me with a very focused looking Grandmum Weasley. "Um..."

"Can you cook?" She demanded.

Now being a prankster I was no stranger to lying, but Grandmum Weasley was different. It was like her gaze neutralized my capability to do anything but be as productive as possible. I nodded.

"Peel potatoes for mashing, then, dear. Thank you."

She stood over me and watched for a little while before deciding I was competent. I finished peeling and was going to tell her but she was busy stuffing five birds with Mrs. (Audrey) Weasley so helped myself to the pots and things in the kitchen and boiled, mashed and seasoned the potatoes. I distracted myself while I cooked by forcing myself to think about totally strange and mundane things like whether or not worms could smell - safe thoughts.

"Oh, Isabelle, dear." Grandmum Weasley said when she found me giving the potatoes a final stir. "You didn't have to do all that."

"It's fine." I replied.

She took a spoon and tried them. "Oh, but these are fantastic! Audrey, love, try the potatoes Isabelle made. Dear, you must tell me how you did these."

I told her the recipe. "Oh, but come on, they're not that great, I'm much better at baking."

Mrs. Audrey Weasley's eyes lit up and she shoved me toward the pantry. "Then make that fudge James was talking about. There's never enough sweets to go around, even with Ron and Harry out of the country."

I sighed. That fudge was special. Should I say no? I glanced out the window and saw about dozen broomsticks in the air - James' among them. Since I couldn't fly they wouldn't miss me and as much as I considered the youngest set of the Clan some of my closest friends I was eager to impress the adults.

The fudge was harder to get through, especially since it was Easter Fudge and even though I tried to distract myself by thinking about whether or not it would be okay for me to call the adults 'Aunt' and 'Uncle' since calling out Mr. Weasley got you nowhere and using first names went against Mum's ten commandments of manners... Mum.

I tried to sniff back tears and ended up with a deep breath of chocolate smelling air. I felt my throat constrict and just told myself to keep mixing. I focused completely on the task ahead of me adding milk and dark chocolate at intervals and swirling gently.

_It's all in the wrist, Isabelle, twist firmly. That's it, beautiful girl, just like that._

Shoot. I breathed deeply and poured the finished mixture into the pan. I looked around for the refrigerator but found none. Of course! I wanted to hit myself with the spatula. I cleared my throat and tapped Mrs. Audrey Weasley on the shoulder. "Um, sorry, but, uh… how do you get things cold?"

She turned smiling, "Oh, I'll just use a cooling charm – Isabelle, are you okay?"

I nodded blinking back tears. "I'm okay, can you just take this?"

I needed to find the loo; wait, on second thought the loo was public too! I ducked out of the kitchen and slammed into someone.

"Sorry." I turned away so whoever it was couldn't see me but he (or she) grabbed my arm.

It was Damian. "Isabelle, it's okay if I fly right? Cause Hugo and Lily have been teaching me and – what's wrong?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine. I'll be fine."

He scrunched his eyebrows together in a way that reminded me of- shoot. "You sure? You don't want me to find Dad or Tasha?"

"No!" I said a little too quickly. He looked at me expectantly.

"Uh, do you want James?" He asked looking a bit afraid. I didn't blame him, what kind of twelve year old boy is equipped to deal with a weep-y older sister?

I shook my head.

"Well what do you want?"

The pain in my chest reached its peak and I gave up. "I want Mummy." I managed to breathe.

He scrunched his eyebrows again, looking so much like her the first tear rolled down my cheek.

"I made fudge." I explained.

His jaw dropped. "Why in the world would you do that?"

I shrugged.

He sighed, tightened his grip around my arm and dragged me upstairs, through a small bedroom and out on the roof. Once we were seated facing the field where almost everyone was playing an enormous game of Quidditch, he conjured me a hankie.

"She loved Easter best of all." He said.

I nodded. "Always said all the hope made her feel lighter than air, so light she felt she could fly."

"Have you ever flown?" He asked.

I shook my head. "Of course not, muggles can't fly."

"So? I'm sure you could ride with someone. You should ask James to take you flying."

"Yeah. Maybe one day."

He picked at his trousers. "Think she would've been okay with all this?"

I looked at him. "You mean, do I think Mum would've been okay with you being a wizard and us being a part of this whole brilliant world?"

He nodded looking a little ashamed.

"Damian, she would've thought it was spectacular! She'd be right there with Dad talking to Granddad Weasley about theories on the genetics behind being magic."

He smiled. "Yeah."

We sat in silence for a while, wrapped up in memories of our Mum: her fetish for pottery, her trilling laugh, her temper, her awful driving skills, her kind and demanding way of instructing us, her completely fantastic capabilities in the kitchen.

Damian broke the silence. "You know, I miss her recipes."

"I know." I whispered. While I'd kept my father and brother well fed I rarely cooked anything Mum used to make and since she loved biscuits and breads and pies, homemade baked goods were scarce at my house.

"It's not wrong to make them, you know."

"I know. But look at me: I'm blubbing and I wasn't even cooking in _our _kitchen. Think what'll happen when I am."

Damian rolled his eyes. "You're not blubbing, you shed a few tears, is all. But every time I look for her baked goods out of habit and then realize there's nothing, it's like she's died all over again." He continued bitterly. "Why can't we just remember her? If we – no if _you _keep pushing back her memory soon it's going to be like she never existed. Don't think I haven't noticed that you only ever hang up pictures from the last five years. Don't think I haven't noticed that _all _her stuff is in the attic. Don't think I haven't noticed that you keep your hair short because if it gets any longer you'd look _exactly_ like her. Don't think I haven't noticed that you're ignoring me right now!"

"Alright, fine!" I snapped. "But what do you expect me to do? I just can't deal on my own, who else is supposed to understand? I don't want to go to Dad, it's awkward to talk about with Tasha and no one else really understands."

"I'm here." He said softly.

I bit back the nasty _No, you're not _I was thinking."Thanks buddy."

"It's just, we have to keep her memory alive because the way things are going… well, don't you get the feeling that the wedding will be like a final closure on that part of our lives?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't get me wrong, I think that it's great Dad and Tasha are tying the knot. I'm ecstatic, in fact. But it's a big marker for all of us. It's almost like telling the whole world that our Mum's dead and we've moved on and that we've built a new life for ourselves where she exists only and ever in the past."

Wow. Ravenclaws really were deep and thoughtful. "I'd… I'd never thought about it that way before."

"Obviously. I'm just asking that Mum not be so taboo, okay? If we don't get find her a place in our new lives soon, she'll never be a part of it."

I nodded. "Okay."

We sat in silence for a little while more.

Again Damian broke the silence. "Are you ready to go down?"

I shook my head. "You go ahead though."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." He gave me and slightly awkward we're-both-sitting-and-don't-want-to-fall-off-the-roof hug and left. I took another five minutes to recollect myself and was about to go back inside when a shadow came across me. I looked up.

"Isabelle Miranda Cross."

I smiled. "James Sirius Potter." He was on his broomstick, flying above me.

"Doing alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay… Hey, can you- could you give me a ride?"

He grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."

He landed lightly on the roof, I climbed onto the back of his broomstick and he pushed off, sending us into the air. We flew around the Burrow and then out towards the field at several kilometers an hour, it was almost like riding on the back of Max's Vespa but more free. We were out there in open air with nothing more than a branch keeping us up; there were no roads to follow; there was no traffic; it was all wind and adrenaline.

"Hold tight." Jamie commanded. I clutched the broomstick more firmly with my thighs and tightened my grip around his waist.

"Ready?" He asked.

"As ever!" I shouted back, even though I had no idea what I was ready for.

"Alright, brace yourself!" He accelerated forward and then pulled us into a barrel roll. I shrieked and he laughed, righting us and then flying in loop-de-loops that took us thirty meters high then plunging us towards the ground before returning to thirty meters up.

He finally stopped the dramatics and we just hovered over the Quidditch pitch.

"We should probably get back." I said. "And I'm pretty sure we missed the feast."

"Yeah." He flew to the ground and we dismounted.

"That was fantastic by the way. Thanks." I told him, watching as he placed his broom carefully in the shed and then muttered protective spells over it.

"No problem. Flying's brilliant, isn't it?"

I nodded, unable to really find words to describe the rush, the whoosh, the freedom, the bliss, the fear, the excitement. We entered the Burrow through the kitchen and I was hoisted off my feet by a green flash.

"You are AMAZING!" It was Teddy Lupin, he was sporting a dark green mop of hair and had apparently deemed it necessary to spin me around.

"Uh… thanks." I said after he put me back on the ground and I regained my breath.

He just smiled at me.

"Sorry, but why am I amazing?" I glanced at James, he just shrugged.

"The fudge, Isabelle! The fudge! I can honestly tell you, as a professional chocolate lover that your fudge is the greatest thing on earth."

"Oh. Thanks." I took a deep breath. "It's my Mum's recipe, actually. Hers always tasted better than mine, but thanks."

James and I left him to find food and I passed by Damian who was happily attacking a rather large serving of fudge, I was going to tell him off but he was sharing with Lucy so I let it go.

"Hey you." My Dad stopped me. He was still talking with Bill and Granddad Weasley. "Nice job on the fudge and potatoes."

"You don't mind do you?"

He shook his head. "Not at all, in fact I couldn't be happier."

"Alright, well it looks like Jamie and I missed the luncheon so I guess we'll find something in the kitchen."

I found James looking through all the dishes of leftovers. "Izzyyyyyyy." He whined. "There's no fudge left!"

He was right. "Oh, sorry. I'll make you more some other time." I piled my plate with other dishes and left to find the others.

"But I want some noooooow!" He complained.

"Oh, James, don't be such a baby!" I sat down next to Molly who was engrossed in a game of Wizard's chess with Scorpius.

"Baby?" Angelina Weasley seemed to appear from out of nowhere. "James, Isabelle, did I just hear you two volunteer?"

"Uh, no Aunt Angelina." James said quickly. "She was just saying-"

I cut him off. "Do you need help with the kids? I'd love to!"

She smiled at me. "It's settled then! I'll tell the others."

"But, she won't even be here then." James protested.

"Nonsense, the whole clan's going to be there. Why should she be any different?"

After she left James rounded on me. "Do you realize what you just did?"

"Um, offered to watch the kids, let's go." I stood to go to the nursery but he stopped me.

"Louis and Lily have shift right now, you just signed us up for Saturday. They've been searching for volunteers for months."

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh.' Merlin, now I'll have to find a new partner and I can't ask any of the girls because they're all going to some sort of wedding something that day and I already owe Al for something and Fred's just like an extra kid to watch."

"Hey, I'll be there."

He ran a hand through his hair. "No, I'll figure something out. I just have to think."

"No, I got us into this, if you apparate me there and back I'll help you watch the kids."

He narrowed his eyes. "You sure?"

I nodded. "Absolutely."

* * *

If I could deem one food evil, it would be onions. Seriously, I _love _onions and I love eating them, so I put them in almost everything but the preparation, namely the crying, is so painful, it's almost not worth it. Almost.

"Lunch almost ready, Izzy?" James asked, coming into the kitchen. "The ankle biters are getting antsy."

It was Saturday and James and I had been at the Burrow watching Owen, Amelia, Oscar, Charlotte, Makai, Chloe, Frank, Alice, Lorcan, Lysander and Freya since eight that morning. All the older girls were at Vic's dress fitting and the blokes were repairing the rundown starter house Teddy had recently bought.

I nodded and wiped fresh tears off my face. "Yeah, nearly there, just have to finish chopping these cursed onions, dump them in the pot and let it simmer."

"Cursed onions?!"

"Just an expression, James."

"Oh." He came up beside me. "Here, let me finish chopping."

"Thanks, mate, but I'm fine." I said sniffing loudly.

He just looked at me.

I pushed the chopping board towards him. "Fine."

"Thank you." He said, peeved, bringing out his wand. In a single wave, the onions were neatly diced.

"Thanks." I dumped them in with the rest of the stew I had made and grabbed a rag from the counter and begin to mop my face. I seriously reacted to onions badly.

"Oh Ja-AMES!" Called a small voice. Alice Longbottom entered the kitchen, hands on her hips. "James Sirius Potter, I've been looking – Oh Isabelle! Are you okay? Why are you crying?"

I grinned at the five-year-old. "I'm fine. Onions just irritate my eyes."

Alice didn't look convinced though. She rounded on James. "You should kiss her."

"What?!" We both asked at the same time.

Alice sighed, as though it should've been obvious. "When Mummy cries Daddy kisses her and everything's all better."

James picked Alice up and placed her on the counter so we were all more or less at the same eye level. "Yes but your Mum and Dad are married, and we" he motioned to himself and then me "…are not."

Alice's eyes grew wide. "You're not?!"

James and I shared a look of mutual surprise and humor. Had Alice really thought we were married this whole time? Granted her idea of marriage was probably different (she still had all her baby teeth for crying out loud) but still! This was so strange it was laughable.

"Well, why not?" Alice asked confused. "You love each other."

"No." I said at the same time James said, "Well…"

I looked at him; he leaned over and whispered "Not loving someone means you hate them."

"Ah. Got it." I whispered back and then said to Alice, "We love each, like friends love each other. Like how you love Frank."

"But you're not brother and sister."

"No." James replied slowly. Gee this was getting slightly awkward. "We love each other like how you love Lorcan. He's your friend, but you're not married to him."

Finally the light bulb went on. "Oh, I get it." She said. "You're going to get married when you're older. Like me and Lorcan."

Oops. "Not so much, Alice." I said quickly. "We love each other like you love Lysander. You're mates but don't want to get married."

Alice's brow furrowed. "But I'm marrying Lysander too."

Oh great. I was going to talk to her parents about this after.

"Alice." James said slowly. "You know you can only have one husband, right?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "Lorcan and Lysander are twins. I have to marry them both."

James and I shared another glance; five year old logic contradicted all reason and yet made a strange amount of sense. "Right." I said. "Do they know about this?"

Alice shook her head. "Chloe and I decided that we should wait to tell them until we're older. I'm going to tell them when we go to Hogwarts for the first time."

I really had no idea how to resolve this. "Soup's ready! Go get the others for lunch."

James put her on the floor and proceeded to levitate bowls and spoons to the table. I swelled with pride as they all lauded my stew, homemade bread and sandwiches, they even nibbled on the salad.

Afterwards James and the older kids cleaned up while I read to everyone five and under before putting them down for a nap. I don't think Alice, Chloe, Lorcan and Lysander actually slept, but at least they stayed in their cots and were quiet.

We went outside and played football/Quidditch until the little ones woke up again. By that point I was ready to turn on the telly and take a nap but seeing as there was no telly, or laptop, or iPad, or iPod we played hide and seek instead. I hid in the bathtub and took a power nap. When they found me it was time to start dinner and I went to the kitchen only to find Kreacher and two other house elves already there. They were labeled one, three and five. Hm… where were two and four?

"Miss Cross." Kreacher said, bowing. "In what way can Kreacher assist you?"

"Um, I don't think I need anything… that is, are you making supper?"

Kreacher nodded. "Mrs. Potter sent for Kreacher and Dina and Mixy to help Young Master Potter and Miss Cross with the young masters and mistresses."

"Okay… thanks." I nearly ran from the kitchen. I found James painting the playroom walls with the kids. "James! _Why _are there house elves here and _why _ are we painting the walls?"

"Meh, the paint washes off easy, we just have to make sure they don't eat it. Grab a brush, we're painting that Pigeon who drives the bus in those books you brought."

I shook my head. "Answer the house elf question!"

He focused on his depiction of Mo Willem's Piggie and Elephant. "Mum sent them around to help with the cooking and cleaning."

"Okay, but where's 2 and 4?"

"Cleaning, I think… hey where are you going?"

But I was already gone. There was no way a creepy house elf was going to sneak up on me; I was going to find out _exactly _where they all were. I found two almost immediately. She introduced herself as Maisy and was cleaning out the fireplace. Four was more elusive.

He wasn't in the attic with lots of muggle junk, he wasn't in the wing of the house that was just five bedrooms I assumed were for married couples staying at the Burrow. He wasn't in Molly and Lucy's room or Amelia and Charlotte's or Owen and Oscar's. He wasn't in any of the five sitting rooms or the three offices or the library or the loo. Four wasn't out by the chickens or in the gardens or the field or the Quidditch Pitch or the broom shed. I had searched the entire Burrow top to bottom, which honestly took about an hour and found no trace of house elf number four.

I was about to search every room a second time when Fred found me to let me know that everyone was back and it was time for supper. I followed him carefully, peeking around corners and under furniture before passing to insure I wouldn't be surprised. Fred watched me with a small smile, I'm sure he thought I was completely paranoid, and I'm not sure if he was entirely wrong.

"James." I hissed as we sat down to eat. Peeking under the table first to check for Four. "I could only find four house elves."

He raised his eyebrows. "You were searching for them?"

"They freak me out! I need to know where they all are and I could only find one, two, three and five, where's four?" I strained to see into the kitchen; only two and five there.

He shrugged. "Try this chicken; Kreacher did an amazing job with it!"

I scowled and looked past Teddy to see into the sitting room. "I don't need servant made chicken."

He rolled his eyes. "How many ways can I say it? _They like it! _They're not complaining so why are you? You should talk to Aunt Hermione."

I ate and tried to focus on my conversation with James, Fred and Louis but I got distracted every time one of the house elves entered. _Kreacher, Mixy, Dina, Kreacher again, Maisy, Dina again, Kreacher, Maisy, Mixy, Dina, Mixy, Kreacher, Maisy… WHERE WAS FOUR?!_

I couldn't stand it anymore. "James Sirius Potter you tell me where house elf number four is this minute or by Morgana and Circe I will- will- quit laughing at me!"

But James and Fred were practically on the floor.

"I can't believe how freaked she is!" Fred wheezed.

"I know! She's been on edge for hours!" James replied.

"What's going on here?!" I demanded. "Jamie!"

He wiped his eyes and patted my shoulder. "Sorry, Izzy, I really am. There are only four house elves."

"B-but the labels…"

Fred rolled his eyes. "We don't _label _our house elves. But James did, just for you! One, two, three and five; they were surprisingly okay with it."

"So- so- so… only four house elves?" I sputtered.

James grinned. "Yep. And I reckon the quaffle's in your hands now. Best that… if you can!"

My eyes narrowed and I shot him my fiercest glare. "Oh, I can and I will." Already the wheels in my head were turning. James would pay for this!

Now at peace I was able to enjoy the ice cream and Mrs. Fleur Weasley gushing about how lovely Dom, Molly, Rose and Lily looked in her bridesmaid outfit and Teddy's complaints that he wasn't even allowed a hint about what Vic's dress looked like.

When everyone began moving to the sitting rooms James stopped me. "I should get you home soon, I promised your Dad I wouldn't keep you out too late."

I nodded. "I'll just say my good-byes. I won't see most of you until the Hogsmeade and I won't see the adults until the wedding."

"Sure, I'll go take the labels off our lovely house elves before someone notices."

I swore to write Lily since she couldn't come to Hogsmeade and told her Lucy and Roxy to keep an eye on Damian and Hugo. The two Ravenclaws were smart but not exactly practical and I didn't want another letter home about a staff member finding them asleep in the library or the greenhouses or the Potions classroom at six am.

I told Dom, Louis, Molly, Fred, Al, Rose and Scor that I would see them at Hogsmeade and wished Teddy and Vic good luck with the wedding and promised to attend the ceremony in July. I hugged each of the little ones and allowed them to tell me I was the best babysitter ever and told them I'd watch them again someday.

Getting the adults attention proved difficult. Grandmum and Granddad Weasley were easy, I just hugged them, promised to be good and visit again soon. But saying 'Mr. Weasley' or 'Mrs. Weasley' either made several of the stiffen and turn around at once or had no effect at all. Even Mrs. Potter subconsciously acted like I was a co-worker. Towards the end of making my rounds, "Uncle Bill" slipped out. I braced myself for awkwardness but none came.

"We'll see you at the wedding, right Isabelle?"

I nodded, surprised that the scarred wizard just smiled and acted completely at ease with me calling him 'uncle.'

"And you'll bring your family?"

"Damian will be there but I'm not sure about Dad and Tasha… we're still working things out in that area."

He laughed and hugged me. "Well you're all welcome, but you may want to get on that soon, Vic's going a bit crazy over the guest list."

I moved on to Aunt Audrey, Uncle Percy and Aunt Hermione. I was surprised how natural it was to call them all Aunt and Uncle and I decided it would become habit, it was just simpler.

"Ready?" James asked.

"As ever." I grabbed his hand and we disapparated.

* * *

**A/N: **He, he, I'm not even going to try and excuse the lateness of this chapter. I hope you enjoyed! And Happy Easter to you all!


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: Best and Worse**

To James there was nothing great about summer; there was nothing great about school either though. To James holiday and term were two completely separate universes that happened to contain some of the same people in completely different circumstances. School-James couldn't be held responsible for anything Summer-James did and vice-versa. Thus, it was perfectly acceptable for him to enjoy, get excited for, and miss both realities, just as it was acceptable for the Pevensies to love England _and _Narnia.

James was musing about all this while the credits rolled for _The Chronicles of Narnia. _Since he had yet to make a full transition from School-ames to Summer-James it was easier for him to reflect on the story than think about how awesome the movie was; this lasted about a minute.

"Isabelle..."

"I know, right?" She tapped a few keys on her laptop, closed it and turned to face him. They were in his living room, sitting on the couch and her wonderful piece of technology sat before them on the coffee table.

"Are... are all movies like that?"

She shrugged. "Well, some have better graphics, and with different writers, stories, actors, directors and funding lots of things change. But for all intents and purposes that was a pretty average movie. A good introduction, I thought."

"You blew up my brain."

She smiled. "Come on, let's get tea."

She stood, moved toward the kitchen then stopped. "Kreacher's in there, right?"

It was James' turn to smile. "Yeah, but just him, I swear."

She raised an eyebrow.

"It's your turn to prank me _and _Fred's not here to witness/judge."

"You could just decide to be mean."

James stood and walked passed her into the kitchen."I'm a prankster, but I'm not mean. C'mon, I want tea."

Kreacher served them tea and biscuits and James was glad Lily was next door with Hugo and Fuzz, he didn't need her 'divining the truth about the past, present and future.'

"So, I was thinking." Isabelle said. "Now that I've introduced you to movies I should take you to the cinema. I mean, Narnia's great but it's just _so old. _I mean, if you think those graphics and special effects were good, I can't wait to show you _real _movies."

"Sorry, what're graphics and special effects?"

"That's all the stuff that isn't really there; like the talking beasts or turning from a stone statue into a person. Anyway, most stuff now is all 3D imaging, so you've got that to look forward to. It makes it seem as though you're actually there!"

"I don't believe you." It was impossible, really, James thought. After all, it was a flat screen and while muggles got along fine with technology some things were just impossible.

"Tell you what, come over to my place this Saturday, we're going to the theater, you can tag along."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me, Sophie, Max, Rachel and Dean, Jack's up North for the holiday visiting his Grandmam. You should come, it's kind of like my last hurrah with them before... everything happens."

"So... is this like a date?" James couldn't help but ask, the opportunity was too good, so when she rolled her eyes and shook her head he wasn't disappointed.

"It's a group of us Jamie."

"So? Isn't there a couple in there somewhere?"

"Rachel and Dean are seeing each other but Sophie and Max are siblings so there's no possibility for a triple date. Unless you went with Soph, and Max and I-"

James heard someone come through the front door and he stood to see who it was. "No! That's fine. So I'll head over around lunch time?"

"YES!"

James and Izzy both looked up to see a triumphant Fred burst into the kitchen and start doing a strange dance.

"Uh, Fred?" Izzy asked, looking worried. "Are you okay?"

Fred continued thrusting his pelvis about in a truly disturbing way. "Brilliant, thanks to you two! Scor owes me twelve galleons!"

James sat back down and poured his cousin a mug of tea. "Okay, Fred, just stop that, you look demented."

"And I'm not really following here." Izzy said.

He wriggled his eyebrows and replied in a sing-song voice. "I was listening at the door!" He took a swig of James' tea.

"Oh." Izzy said. "Do you want to come too? I mean, you'll have to figure out transportation since I don't think you can apparate, but you're more than welcome. As long as you dress as a muggle."

Fred spat James' tea back into his mug. Yeah, that tea was officially Fred's now. "What?"

"Do you want to go to the cinema with Jamie, me and a couple of my friends?" Izzy articulated. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Fred looked as though he had just tasted sour milk. "Yeah. Fine, I'll come to this 'siminah' with you."

"Cinema." James corrected. "The movies and what are you doing here exactly?"

"Came with our Mums." Fred replied as James' Mum and Aunt Angelina came into the kitchen. "They're discussing something important and secret apparently."

"That's right." Aunt Angelina said. "So head next door for your tea."

"Do I have to go, Aunt Ginny?" James was surprised to see Izzy complain. "Kicj the boys out but let me stay, summer's all about not moving."

James' Mum raised her eyebrows. "Is it now?"

Izzy nodded mournfully. "And what with the wedding at the end of June I can barely catch my breath when I'm at home; they've both gone barmy!"

Aunt Angelina just rolled her eyes. "Well, there'll be plenty of time for you to 'not move' while you're at the Burrow after the Wedding; for now, move it."

The three obeyed and as they crossed through their backyards Izzy mumbled. "Not move at the Burrow, my arse. Grandmum Weasley will have me working like a house elf, you just wait."

"You could always stay here." James commented in what he hoped was a nonchalant way.

Izzy just wrinkled her nose. "No, you run in the morning, I run at night - it'd never work. Besides, I think it'll be good for Damian and Hugo to not live within walking distance of each other for a little while. They've been experimenting with potions lately and I don't think it's healthy."

James nodded and opened the door to his Aunt and Uncle's cottage. "I tried talking to them about it but I'm bullocks at Potions so they disregard everything I say in that area."

"Yeah and Dad's no help. They end up comparing magic and science and it only encourages him."

"What's that about Dad?" Fuzz was sitting with the other clanners in his year, they were playing some sort of card game he'd never seen before.

"Nothing." Izzy replied."They kicked us out of the Potters."

There was a loud bang and a furious looking Rose entered followed by a cheerful-looking Malfoy and Al.

"They kicked us out too! Interrupted a perfectly good game of Wizard's Chess! I was winning too!" Rose fumed.

Malfoy grinned. "We'll just have to reschedule, Rosie."

She scowled. "There wasn't even a _reason _to kick us out! And don't call me Rosie!"

"Yeah, wonder what they did that for..." James thought. His family may've been crazy but they weren't pointless.

"So!" Izzy said. "How many of you have actually _seen _a movie? And no, Damian, Daeda you don't count."

"I saw an information film once." Malfoy offered. "Actually it was more than once; I've got it memorized, _Love is patient, Love is kind-"_

Rose cut him off. "We aren't interested in domestic abuse, thanks. Hugo and I have seen films at Grandmother and Grandfather's house."

"But never in theaters?" Izzy asked. Everyone shook their heads and her jaw dropped. "You are missing out on _so _much."

Damian shoved her gently. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Alright, you lot, come to my house on Saturday, I'm taking you to the cinema."

The fireplace roared and Molly and Lucy tumbled out. "What was that?" Molly asked.

While Louis (wait, where had _he _come from?) filled them in Izzy sat down on the floor and drew up plans with Damian and Rose about transportation.

"What about clothes?" Molly asked. "I mean, how many of us actually dress like real muggles?"

"Come early then, we'll go shopping - it'll be fun. Besides it's practical for you have at least _one _normal outfit. Now Jamie, I forgot my laptop at your house, I'll be right back. Damian, you come up with a plan for Saturday." She stood and flounced out of the room.

They spent the next twenty minutes devising the easiest way to get everyone to the Cross' Saturday morning. Of course, the parents could always veto the idea, but it was best to come with a pre-made plan when asking permission for something. That way the only thing the parents had to do was agree.

James noticed that the small sitting room was getting more and more crowded as time went on. "Um, Fuzz, that's the fifth time someone's tried to sit on me - and we're on the floor. Can we go outside?"

He shook his head. "No. But let's go to the kitchen. Are you sure this TJ fellow will give us port-keys for free? I mean, he's not exactly a clanner, is he? I mean, I've never met the bloke."

James stood and weaseled his way through the crowd. "That's cause he's a workaholic. But he's Teddy's best man and always gives us free port-keys. C'mon I know where Uncle Ron hides the ice cream."

"No ice cream." He replied firmly.

James raised his eyebrows.

He motioned to where Alice, the twins and Chloe sat playing with the cat. "They don't need sugar."

"Why are they here?" James asked.

Fuzz just shrugged. "Now, this is important, getting all us to and from the theater-"

"It's walking distance, Damian." James rounded on him. "I've been hanging around that neighborhood since I was a kid, remember?"

"I remember." He replied calmly.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Are you hiding something? And what's taking your sister so long? And why, is the entire clan crammed into Uncle Ron's tiny house?"

"Not everyone's here." He countered, reading over the parchment that contained their plan.

"Oh yeah? I bet if I went upstairs I'd find Vic, Teddy, Dom, whoever she's dating right now, Makai, Owen, Amelia, Oscar, Charlotte, Freya and Frank. Right?"

He just shrugged. "Go see for yourself."

It took James a while to navigate through the cottage but he eventually discovered he was right and Izzy was nowhere to be found. There was definitely something fishy going on. He went to report his findings to Fuzz. He sat in the kitchen reading _BEYOND NEWTS: Potion Making based on the notes of Severus Snape _alone.

"Hey, where'd the kids go?"

"Outside. Now, c'mere, this says that the use of peppermint can-"

James cut him off. "You never talk to me about potions. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Then ask Hugo about potions" James turned to look into the sitting room but it was empty, as though everyone had suddenly and silently disapperated.

"Uh..." James turned only to be plunged into total darkness. "Hey, what the hell?"

"Language, Jamie. I won't have you corrupting my little brother." Izzy's voice came through the blackness.

He heard Fuzz scoff. "Whatever, I've heard worse from you. And James, stop pulling on the blindfold, it's a Weasley product, you're not seeing anything until I undo it."

James obeyed and tried to find his way into the kitchen he stopped when he hit something squishy.

"Ow. Jamie, quit swinging your arms about." Izzy grabbed his hand. "There, now just let me lead you."

James complied. She led him outside and he lost all sense of direction. Her hands were really soft and James wondered if all girls had soft hands or if Izzy used a special lotion. Actually, a special lotion would explain why she always smelled slightly of springtime.

"Here we are." She said and James felt Fuzz reach up and remove the blindfold.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

His entire family was gathered in his backyard. There was a table laden with all his favorite food and large cake shaped like a quaffle at the center. There was a wireless softly playing music, floating lanterns, balloons, streamers, it was... well, a birthday party.

James blinked a few times, but he wasn't hallucinating. "Uh... my birthday's in February."

Izzy, who was still holding his hand, laughed. "Which makes June the perfect time for a surprise party."

His Dad came over and clapped him on the shoulder. "Besides, you're at Hogwarts then. We're pretty sure that summer birthday celebrations will now be tradition."

James opened his mouth but his Mum cut him off. "Before you ask, gifts are given on your real birthday, no other day."

James smiled, finally over the shock. "Can't blame me for trying."

The crowd dispersed and Izzy squeezed his hand and let go. "Hey Fred!" She called out. "Does this top the House Elves?"

James turned to stare at her. "This was your prank?"

She nodded, he noticed she had swapped her jeans and t-shirt for a blue dress that made her eyes shine super bright. "Not all pranks are mean or embarrassing or even funny. They just have to be surprising."

Fred threw his arms around the two of them. "And I think we can all agree the birthday boy was extremely surprised."

"Ball's in your court now." Izzy said. "Or rather, the quaffle's in your hands or something like that."

James shook his head. "You're barmy."

She walked towards the buffet. "And you love me."

James felt a jolt in his stomach and froze. What had she said? Wait...why had the temperature just gone up?

"James, you all right?" Fred asked.

"Yeah." He replied a little too quickly. "Just getting over the shock of it all."

Fred gave him a sideways glance. "Blondie's quite something, isn't she?"

"Yeah..."

* * *

_CRACK! _James took a moment to recover in Apparition room. It had been repainted an odd off-white color and the friendly "Welcome" had been painted over. He rang the doorbell, it was Mr. Cross who answered.

"Hullo James, come right in."

"Morning, Mr. Cross, how's the wedding coming?"

His eyes lit up like a rising 1st year's when Hogwarts was mentioned. "I'd say nothing could go wrong, but that would just be inviting trouble. We're all very excited. Come on, we're all in here."

James followed Mr. Cross into the sitting room. "You're going to the Canary Islands after, right?"

"Yep, Tasha's fluent in Spanish and I can manage. Take this bit of advice James: beaches. Always a beach, preferably tropical. I don't care if she's your girlfriend, sister, wife or mother-in-law. Take her to the beach."

James adjusted his glasses thoughtfully. "What if it's winter?"

"Hawaii." Mr. Cross replied easily. "Weather's always nice there."

James filed that bit of information in the part of his brain dedicated to witches in-between Teddy's advice to marry your best friend and Uncle Bill's to dare to go after someone unexpected and intimidating.

Fuzz, Al, Lily, Hugo, Rose and Malfoy were already in the sitting room playing a card game. Izzy entered with a plate of snickerdoodles and a pitcher of lemonade.

James tried and failed to keep his voice even at the sight of her. "ISABELLE?!"

She set the food on the coffee and faced him."Hullo, Jamie, I'm fine. Its just a black eye and it was my own fault. I kicked the football at the wall and it ricocheted off and hit me."

James raised his hands to examine her purple and swollen eye more closely but she stopped him. "Don't touch, it's tender."

James nodded. "Er, you sure you'll be okay?"

She nodded. "And if you dare suggest a magical remedy-"

"Don't worry, I won't." He managed to smile. Her ferocious tone matched by her scowl and shiner made her quite look quite intimidating. Which was cute. Wait - what had he just thought?

"Alright then." She said clasping her hands together. "The next round should arrive any minute now. The portkey should have dropped them off a little ways away by this abandoned railroad so no one would see them."

"Who's in that group?" Rose asked.

"Fred, Roxy, Lucy, Molly and Louis." Damian replied. "Everyone else, really - Dom and Vic are too busy with the wedding and the younger ones didn't get permission to come."

James was about to sit when the door opened letting in the aforementioned members of the clan plus Daeda Dursley. Izzy took on the role of the perfect hostess and stood on the coffee table and shouted to get everyone's attention.

"Alright now, the shops are just a quick walk into town; hopefully we won't get any weird looks on the way. Honestly, pair something with some jeans and you'll be fine. Mostly though, be comfortable. If you're uncomfortable, you're probably doing it wrong. Also, remember that a galleon is about six pounds, so do the maths."

James walked with Izzy, Fred, Molly and Louis into the town. It was quaint and James suspected that Granddad Weasley could spend eons in the antique shops. Izzy took them into three second-hand shops because they were "quality yet thrifty, very practical." It was no wonder she and Grandmum Weasley got on so famously.

In the end everyone was outfitted rather nicely and Izzy said they still had enough muggle money for concessions. They attracted quite a bit of attention, being a group of 13 teenagers, most of whom had red hair, all of whom were noisy and talking about clothes in way or another. It was a different type of attention than James was used to though. Instead of the phrases 'war hero,' and 'Potter-Weasleys' being whispered it was 'young hooligans' and 'disturbers of the peace.' Instead of people rushing to take pictures to sell to _the Prophet, _Mums were scolding their kids for trying to snap photos and warning not to emulate them. Not that they were being rude or illegal, just rambunctious. It was freeing.

James nudged Fred playfully."I bet if we did something stupid they'd call their Aurors - not the press."

Fred grinned. "I bet you could run your hand through your hair without making twenty birds swoon."

"I like the muggle world." Molly stated firmly. "We should hang out here more often."

"You're all always welcome." Izzy said, coming to a halt in front of a large, low building. "Here we are. Now we're a little early, but that gives us time. We're going to see that one." She pointed at a poster of a band of cowboys. "But anyone under 13 has to see that one." She pointed at another poster of a pirate ship in outer space then waved to the approaching Max and Sophie, accompanied by a bloke and girl he'd never met. "Oh, there are the others. Please be certain to embarrass yourselves a great deal." She added and James wasn't sure if she was kidding or not.

She greeted each of the four newcomers with a hug, James noticed that Max got a hair ruffle too, and then she introduced them all. Rachel looked nice enough, she was black - darker than any of his cousins - and had cornrows, Dean was a bit of a pretty boy, with perfectly styled brown hair and a beater's build, though he was taller than even Louis.

"Don't worry about keeping everyone straight." Izzy was telling a flustered looking Sophie. "Just call them Weasley and they'll probably answer, if not try Potter and if not, well, they'll be quick to correct you. Come on, it'll start soon."

Of course all the girls headed into the bathroom at the same time leaving the boys with the Pepsi, popcorn and candy bars to find seats. Max showed them to the right room and James' jaw dropped at the sight of the screen. It was _huge, _stretching from the floor to the ceiling and James found himself believing Izzy's words that he would find himself sucked into the film.

"Alright, there?" Max said. "Look like you lot have never been to the theater before."

"We haven't." Malfoy replied easily before James could stop him.

Dean looked shocked but Max just shrugged. "Well there's a science to finding the right seats. You can't be too high up or you're looking down and if you're too close to the bottom-"

"You crane your neck." Al said thoughtfully. "We need to be somewhere central."

"Yeah and not too close to either wall." Louis guessed, walking up the steps.

"Here." Fred said pointing to a row a little bit above the middle one. "That way we're looking straight on."

"Nice." Dean said rolling his eyes. "But we need twelve seats and there's only ten available."

It was true the row contained twelve seats exactly, two of which were occupied by very pretty girls who were eyeing them disdainfully, as if daring them to ask them to move.

Malfoy smirked. "I'll take care of it, Louis, mon compatriote, suivez-moi."

A few moments later the girls were smiling, giggling and basically begging Malfoy and Louis to take their seats.

"French accents." Malfoy said, tapping his nose when he rejoined them. "More effective than messy hair and glasses...more universal too."

James opted to ignore him. Malfoy had recently gotten a reputation for being as much of a ladies man as a respectable 14 year old boy could be and it had done nothing for his swollen ego. They staggered themselves through the row and Dean leaned over a seat separating them.

"So Jamie, do you play any sport?"

"It's James and yeah, I'm a pretty sporty bloke."

"Football or Rugby?" He asked.

"Er, neither really. I mean, I don't play anything exclusively."

Dean nodded. "Ah, ever play Criket?"

"Sorry, what about crickets?"

Dean shook his head. "Forget about it. So, Isabelle's going to yourplace after her Dad and Tasha get hitched?"

James shook his head. "My Grandparent's house. But yeah, the Burrow's like the center of the clan's...well, everything. Molly lives there."

Dean nodded. "The older one who _doesn't _have a mane for hair?"

James nodded. "That's the one."

The girls entered, spotted them and Izzy sat between him and Dean while Sophie sat on his other side.

"How've you been, James?" She asked.

"Brill. How about you? You're coming to the wedding, right?" But after he said ita thought suddenly struck James. Tasha was a pureblood witch and Mr. Cross was a muggle. Would it be a muggle ceremony? A wizard ceremony? Would the wizards and witches be forced to dress and act like muggles the whole time? Would there be no firewhiskey?

Sophie nodded and making James all that much more curious. He was about to turn and ask Izzy but the room darkened and the screen came to life.

First came trailers, one for a quirky romance which, for one reason or another reminded him of Izzy, and another for an action movie that looked cool. There was one for a movie that was trying to be a comedy but just seemed wrong on all sorts of levels. There was one that seemed to be all "graphics" as Izzy had put it - or things that weren't really there - and looked to be made for kids and lastly came a trailer for a type of movie that couldn't decide if it was dramatic, funny, romantic or suspense and had to do with aliens. There were also about a dozen requests for mobiles to be silenced and for everyone to be courteous to their neighbors.

Finally the movie began. It was an American cowboy story about revenge and getting the girl and money and protecting the innocent but that wasn't the part that interested James. The entire experience was **AMAZING. **The duels were perfectly choreographed and he found himself flinching when splinters of wood and drops of blood flew everywhere. The music was brilliant and added to the emotion of the scene whether it be sorrow, suspense, triumph or joy. The sets and costumes were realistic and pretty cool and James wondered if the war would have gone differently if his Dad had had a shotgun. When the credits rolled James was pretty sure him and his cousins frightened everyone else with their cheers of approval.

"Joss Whedon's fantastic, isn't he?" Izzy asked.

"Who?"

"The creator, writer and director." She explained. "Merlin, I've got to show you the Avengers movies - again, older ones, but just as fantastic. Alright everyone, the other movie should have ended a little while ago we'll head back to my place for fish and chips."

"And pie?" Dean asked hopefully.

Izzy shrugged. "You'll see."

There was no pie back at the Cross' but there was homemade bread and brownies. There was, of course, a little bit of awkwardness between the clanners and Izzy's friends but Max brought out a deck of cards and taught them how to play a game called 'poker' in which the bet brownies instead of money.

James was no good at the game however and excused himself to go to the loo but was distracted by the photos on the wall of the hallway. The first thing he noticed, of course, was that they were completely motionless. It was like someone had captured a moment in time instead of several moments. He studied them closely, some were recent: Fuzz, Tasha, Mr. Cross and Izzy in Diagon Alley or Mr. Cross and Tasha's engagement photos. Others were years old, three year old Izzy holding a football and grinning despite being incredibly muddy, Mr. Cross carrying a young Fuzz on his shoulders and Izzy and Fuzz sitting on Father Christmas' lap.

Then James noticed another photo in black and white, Izzy looked about six and was sitting on swing and a woman's face was next to her looking at the camera, they were both grinning widely. The same woman appeared in several other photos, she was bathing a baby boy James assumed was Fuzz, she was holding hands with Mr. Cross on the shore, she was sledding with a ten year old Izzy and seven year old Fuzz, she was making fruit tarts in the kitchen, she wore large fairy wings while holding a baby dressed as a pumpkin.

"My Mum." A Izzy said coming up next to him and confirming his suspicions.

James just nodded and continued to study the photos, unsure of what to say. He glanced at Izzy and realized something.

"You're hair is long." It was true, her shiny golden-blonde hair used to dance just below her chin and now it was past her shoulders.

She rolled her eyes. "Nice work, Sherlock, I've been growing it out since Easter."

"It looks nice." James said, allowing himself to look at her and really think about her appearance, something he'd been wanting to do since his birthday party but hadn't let himself. She was a few inches shorter than him and built like a chaser: lean but muscular. Her skin was fair, she had no freckles, and her nose was upturned in a rather endearing way. The eye that wasn't blackened shone bright blue. James came to a conclusion.

"Isabelle, you are beautiful."

She scoffed quietly and shook her head. "Thank you James, but you don't have to pity me because I'm klutz with a black eye."

"I didn't-"

She cut him off with a smile, "Whatever, it's fine. I was looking for you because it's time you all headed out."

"Ah." James said, he reentered the kitchen to see Dean, Max and most of his family gone.

"The other's are leaving via the Dursley's floo." Izzy explained. "You can apparate though."

"Fine, fine." James said.

Neither of them moved.

Izzy broke the awkward silence. "You're coming next weekend right? To the wedding."

"Yeah, my family's got the invitation pinned the calendar."

She shook her head. "Not that wedding, the first one. I want you there."

James absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I'm confused."

She sighed. "Saturday, ten o'clock, village church, be there. Reception's at this hotel about a half-hour's drive away. Wear something muggle and clean, other than that no one will care."

Now James got it. "Ah, and the ceremony at the Prewitt's Manor on Sunday-"

"That's the Wizarding one, you better come to that one too."

"So next week... if I didn't get an invite, does that mean I'm your date?"

Izzy touched her forehead as though she had a headache. "Not in the mood Jamie, just be there."

"Sure thing." And when he hugged her goodbye she hugged back, making James feel like he was flying without a broomstick.

* * *

James straightened his tie one last time before going downstairs. James hated ties but had decided that showing up in jeans and a t-shirt probably would have upset Izzy more than she let on, so he'd opted for trousers, an oxford and the tie that wouldn't lie straight no matter what he did. James preferred it at school where he could wear his tie around his head and no one would care - not that he ever wore his tie on his head, he wasn't a total prat, it was just the principle that no cared about ties.

James entered the kitchen, his Dad was at the table reading some report over his late morning tea. "You're tie is crooked, James."

James sighed. "I know. Is it that obvious?"

His Dad shrugged. "It is to me. Come here, I'll show you." James obeyed and studied his father's scarred hands closely. "Wedding's at ten?"

James nodded and glanced at the clock. "I've got a half-hour. That's early enough, right?"

"You're fine, though that depends on how you're planning on getting there."

James flinched under his father's hard stare. "Uh, I was _planning _on-"

His Dad cut his off. "Asking me to apparate you? I'd be happy to. You ready?"

"Sure Dad." James grumbled. He didn't understand why his parents didn't like him apparating, he was perfectly capable and there was no risk of being caught. Though it _could _have been a principle thing seeing as his Dad was head of the DMLE.

The two men made their way to the sitting room where James kissed his Mum on the cheek and promised to be back by ten that night. They apparated behind a flower shop next to the village church and walked to where a few dozen people were gathered. Fuzz and Isabelle were by the doors, greeting everyone. She was wearing pink. James had never thought of her as a pink kind of girl, but then again, he'd never thought of her as a dress girl or shopping girl either.

"How's Isabelle holding up?" his Dad asked.

James shrugged. "She's fine." A scary thought entered his head. Would there be dancing? James could dance well enough and enjoyed it, but what if muggle dancing was different? And did Izzy like to dance?

"Well, there a lot of changes happening in her life right now." His Dad was telling him. "I wouldn't be surprised if she was a little stressed."

"Naw, she's fine. She really likes Tasha and everything. It looks like they're closing the doors soon, I'll see you tonight Dad."

"Have fun James, and..." He sighed. "Just get yourself home. And if you run into issues get someone to call."

"Right." By the time James got to the church Izzy was closing the doors.

"James Sirius Potter, get your arse in here. It's starting!" She hissed.

He hugged her. "Isabelle Miranda Cross, you look lovely in pink."

She scowled at him and shoved him off playfully. "Just find a seat."

James knit his brow together. "Aren't you sitting too?"

She rolled her eyes and motioned to her dress. "Bridesmaid, nimrod, why else would I be wearing this color? And don't go looking for Damian either, he's with the groomsmen. Just get in there and behave yourself."

"Alright, alright, no need to get nasty." James entered the crowded sanctuary and had resigned himself to sitting beside an evil looking old woman when he spotted Sophie and Max.

"Hullo, I'm sitting with you." James announced as he plopped down next to them. They didn't care but their parents looked a little put out. He shook their hands. "James Potter, I go to school with Fuzz, rather, Damian. I'm Izzy's... friend."

He had almost said 'boyfriend.' It would have been ridiculously funny if he could convince everyone that they were together, but Fred wouldn't be around to see the prank so it would be a waste.

The ceremony was nice and not too different from what he remembered from the few wizarding weddings he had attended. Tasha cried and James thought Mr. Cross did a little too. Sophie was nice and pointed out everyone to him: Mr. Cross' parents, his brother, sister-in-law, niece and other relatives and friends.

As everyone was leaving Sophie grabbed his arm. "You've talked to her, right?"

"Who?"

"Izzy, she's blocking me off and I just wanted to make sure she's talking to _someone._"

"Yeah. Yeah, I've been talking to her. Have you two had a fight?"

Sophie shook her head. "No, it's just... well, you know how it is. Anyway, let's get to the hotel. You got a ride? No, don't worry, we've got room in the car, you can come with us."

It took a while but eventually Izzy and the wedding party arrived. James congratulated the happy couple and Mr. Cross thanked him profusely for coming.

"It makes everything so much better for Izzy." He said. But James didn't really hear him. He was too enraptured by Izzy who was grinning widely and motioning for him to join her by the large white cake.

"I made this." She said.

James' eyes grew wide. "No."

"Calling me a liar? Just kidding, but seriously, I made this. _And _there's extra under here. She crawled under the table and James joined her. "I don't know about you but I'm in the mood for cake."

Grinning slyly she opened a box of cake and began to eat it with her fingers.

"You want help?" Taking his wand from his pocket he summoned two forks and two pepsis.

She smacked his head lightly. "What if someone saw that?"

"Ah, they'll just blame it on the alcohol."

"It's only one James."

He raised his eyebrows. "You're family's all day-drinkers!"

She rolled her eyes and scowled and as she attacked the cake with a vicious hunger James couldn't help but stare at her mouth and wonder...

"Shit." She said.

"Language, fair maiden."

"Call me a fair maiden again and I'll say worse. It's my shoes." She shoved her foot in his face, revealing one tanned leg to mid thigh, and showing off a strappy, heeled death trap she called shoes.

"Careful, you could take someone's eye out with that."

She repositioned herself. "Apparate me home so I can get my flats? I meant to bring them but forgot."

James ran a hand through his hair. She _hated _apparating and James was pretty sure she essentially hated magic altogether. She must have been pretty desperate. He grabbed her hand.

"Come on." He led her to a broom closet and whisked them away. It wasn't until after they walked inside her house that he realized that he had just dragged Isabelle into a broom closet and remembered what that usually implied for him.

"Be right back." She grumbled. "It's impossible to find anything around here now."

Her house looked different. They had repainted all the walls that weird off-white color of the apparition room and there were boxes everywhere. There photos had been removed from walls too but all thoughts of the house left his mind when Izzy reappeared having changed into a pair of jeans that were far tighter than anything a witch would wear and a sparkly top. James decided in that moment that muggle clothes were evil - the bane of all gentlemen, turning them into slobbering hogs.

It an effort to sidetrack his mind he noticed she also held two duffel bags. He raised and questioning brow.

"Fuzz and I are staying the night at the Prewitts tonight, might as well bring our bags now." She explained.

Something seemed off about her the rest of the afternoon. They danced, talked, pranked Max and Sophie, ate more cake and she introduced him to everyone, but she seemed... tense about everything. James shoved the thought from his mind, of course she was tense, her Dad was getting remarried. Besides, James figured that the best thing for him to do at the moment was to think about Izzy as little as possible.

* * *

The wedding the next day was much more James' style. For one, his entire family was there plus all the pseudo-clanners. James wasn't even sure if Tasha knew people like the Finnegans and the Macmillians but there they were there in all their obnoxiously non-English glory. The food was better, except for the cake which was on par with the last probably because Izzy had made them both, and the drink table was run by house elves who very easy to convince that he was 17 and not 15.

The only thing that was an issue was Izzy. James had planned the perfect prank to play on her (after the new Mr. and Mrs. Cross had left for the Canary Islands of course, he wasn't daft) and it included a bathroom stall and WWW non-flaming Fireworks. The problem was that she was _nowhere. _She had been there all through the ceremony, had danced with Louis at bit, James was _sure _he had seen her sneak some wine and cake but then she was just _gone. _He hadn't even seen her bid her parents goodbye. James looked through every room of the Prewitt's vast manor, he had asked nearly every guest twice if they had seen her and it was just plain annoying!

It went from being annoying to scary around midnight when people started leaving. Were Izzy and Fuzz spending another night with their new grandparents or were they going to the Burrow that night? And where was she and did _anyone _know where that stupid gorgeous girl was?!

Suddenly someone had him by the shoulders. It was Molly. "James, you look faint, are you alright?"

"I can't find Isabelle and _no one _seems to know where she is."

Molly rolled her eyes. "Relax, she's back at the Burrow asleep."

James blinked. "How long have you known?"

"Erm, does it matter? But she and Dad just flooed back a little while ago."

"Oh, so you don't know where she was all day?"

She shook her head. "Not really, ask Louis maybe. Anyway, you're coming for the match tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there." James ran a hand through his hair and sighed. She was safe. But why had she disappeared like that?

The next few weeks of summer were the best and worst of his life.

It was the best because along with the usual things of summer - playing Quidditch, professional Quidditch matches, exploding snap, wizarding chess, weekends at the shore and day trips into London - there was also movies, football (James found himself getting pretty good), baked goods and (of course) the prank war due to Izzy and Fuzz's constant presence.

It was the worst because Izzy's "constant presence" wasn't all that "present." There were afternoons, whole days even, that he would look for her and she'd be missing. When he'd ask her about it later she'd just wrinkle her nose, pick at her nails and say something like, "working on some stuff, don't worry about it."

Those weeks of summer were brill because whenever Izzy _was_ around James found that everything was just so much _easier. _It was easier to nice to Malfoy, it was easier to laugh, it was easier to run an extra mile, it was easier to excuse himself from a large crowd to go read a book and life was just easier. She would smile and he would instantly be happy, even if his day had sucked. He would get bored or antsy and she'd always be up for a ride on his broomstick. She would show up, in all her radiance, when he least expected her and most needed her.

Those weeks of summer were horrid because whenever Izzy _wasn't _around James found his thoughts dwelling on his best mate. And not all of those thoughts were exactly... matey. Sure, he'd always known Izzy was pretty, but call it puberty or new glasses or whatever, but he was starting to notice her beauty more and more. Also, he missed her when she wasn't around - a lot, more so than he thought exactly appropriate.

James came to the conclusion that maybe...just maybe their friendship was...changing. But James wasn't stupid, he knew that he would tear himself apart if he kept everything to himself, however it wasn't kind to Izzy to go about things in a rushed, shallow or crazy way. So James resolved to wait a little, to clear things up on his end before springing a confession of...something. Besides, she was always always talking and never saying anything, so James figured that if she had the right to some private secrets, so did he.

The morning of his Dad's birthday it all came to a head. She was in the kitchen, elbow deep in the makings of treacle tart.

"What're you doing in here?"

"I'm not allowed in my own Grandmother's kitchen?" James joked.

"No, but everyone else is out on the pitch, thought you'd be on your broomstick with the rest of them."

James shook his head and perched on a stool next to where she was muttering at a recipe. "Didn't feel like it."

"You sick?"

He winked, jokingly. "No, I've just got to get my Izzy fill while you're around. Never know when you're going to disappear on me."

She stiffened and James winced, apparently that wasn't the best thing to say. "I don't know what you're talking about."

James nodded and then hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "Are, are you doing alright, Izzy?"

"I'm fine." She stated firmly, taking out a spoon to whip her mixture.

James nodded again. She had said that, 'I'm fine,' several times this summer and he wondered, for the first time, if she was telling the truth.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before her mobile went off. "Shit." She swore. James noticed, for the first time, that she was swearing more lately and wondered if she was going through a phase.

She wiped her hands, pushed a ton of buttons all at once (she had called it texting) and took off her apron.

"Hey, where are you going?" James asked, he'd never actually seen her disappear before and hoped that he could convince her to stay.

"Just have to take care of something." She replied, leaving the kitchen.

James followed her. "So you're disappearing again."

She groaned. "Again with the disappearing, Jamie? I don't disappear."

"Yes you do. You're doing it right now! And there are hours, whole days even that you're just gone and if I ask where you've been, you know just out of friendly curiosity, you evade the question." James tried to keep his voice level, as much as he wanted Isabelle to stick around, he didn't want a fight.

"Whatever, James, I have to go."

"For how long today?"

She glared at him. "I never can tell, sometimes it's just an hour other times it's the whole day."

"Ah. So you admit to disappearing for whole days."

"I don't even disappear, Grandmum Weasley knows where I am, and Aunt Audrey apparates me there and back, I'm perfectly safe."

"Well, try and be back soon. Dad's birthdays are always fun and I'd hate for you to miss it."

She opened her mouth but her mobile beeped again. She checked it. "Sorry, looks like things are going to go late today."

She turned on her heel and left the house, presumably in search of Aunt Audrey, James followed her again. "But what about the Treacle Tart?!"

She kept walking and swore over her shoulder. "Bloody hell. You'll have to finish it."

"Me? I can't cook to save my life!"

She stopped and turned to glare at him. "Not you, you great prat, get Grandmum Weasley or Tante Fleur to do it. Merlin, you're daft."

"Don't go, Izzy. You were gone all yesterday afternoon and the day before that and the day before that you were gone for-"

"So are you stalking me now, you creeper?!" Her voice was shrill and her eyes were shining right, almost like - Agrippa's sake!

"No!" James groaned, she was making this difficult on purpose! "I'm just feeling left out here. Izzy, why are you acting like this all of a sudden?"

"Acting like _what?!" _She took a step closer to him so they were less than half a meter apart.

"You got all sensitive when I mentioned your habit of disappearing and you're swearing and now you're crying."

She blinked several times in a row. "I am _not."_

"Yes you are! And it doesn't make sense, Izzy you just told me you were fine and-"

That's when Isabelle lost it. Hot, angry tears streamed down her face and she was shouting so loud it was a wonder the whole of Britain didn't come to investigate. "Of course I'm not bloody fine James Sirius Potter, I'M MOVING! I'm going home to meet with that arse-hole realtor again and then going to _**London **_to work out something with that git of a mover."

That stunned James. He didn't know what to say. She was... moving? To London?

"James I am _far _from fine. My Mum's **dead**_**. **_My Dad's **remarried **to a **witch. **My brother's a bloody **wizard **and a **werewolf **and he's **never **home! I'm **moving **and changing **schools **and my best mate doesn't even notice! _**Louis **_knew for Christ's sake!"

What did Louis have to do with anything? "Hey, you're not being fair. I didn't know-"

She cut him off. "That's exactly my point! YOU DIDN'T KNOW!" She hit him. She _hit _him on the shoulder. James backed up, there was no way he was hitting her back, but he didn't want to be hit again either.

"YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!" He roared back, his temper long lost.

That sobered her for a moment, but just for a moment and she returned with a caustic bitterness that cut deeper than her angry yell. "Are you trying to tell me that you didn't _notice _the _**boxes **_at my house? You didn't _notice _that my friends were hugging me goodbye at the wedding like they didn't know when they'd _**see me again**_? You didn't _notice _that I've had _**bags **_under my eyes and been on the verge of _**tears **_since _**May**__?! _You didn't _notice _-"

James cut her off, this wasn't his fault. This was entirely and completely her doing and now she was arguing with him like she was the victim. "You said you were FINE!"

She went back to yelling and began to smack him repeatedly on his shoulder, head, cheek, face, chest and arms. "Of _course _I said I was fine! Everyone's happy! They don't want to hear about the one person in the universe who isn't jumping for joy!"

James grabbed both her arms firmly. "You didn't have to lie to me. If I really was your 'best mate' you wouldn't do that."

"If you really were my best mate you would have noticed!" She choked out.

James let go of her arm, he couldn't look her in the eye. She was right, he should have noticed _something _was off. He should have seen through her 'fines' from the beginning. "I was...distracted."

"Damn straight!"

"It's just-" He raised his eyes to look at her, but she was glowering at him. No, now was not the time to share his suspicions. "Never mind."

She glared. "So who's lying now?"

James felt his face flush red. "So we're both liars, FINE!"

She glared at him. "Best mates should lie to each other Ja-"

"And we're _both _to blame for that one, so _stop _acting like the victim."

"If _I'm _not the victim, who the bloody hell is, _**you? **_Or maybe-"

"No! Does it even matter?"

"Yes it bloody well-"

He interrupted her. "So what now?"

She shrugged. "I've got to go. And I'm still mad at you, so don't be offended if I don't talk to you for a while and-"

"What?! How could I **not **be offended by that? And why are you mad at me anyway, none of this is my fault!"

"You should have-"

James was sick of of this, she had expected too much of him and was acting, well, she was acting like a bitch. "Don't start with that again. You're acting like that's the root of the problem."

"It _is. _If you had just-"

They were talking in circles. "Isabelle."

"NO! interrupt me one more time and I'll give you a black eye." She paused. "If you had-"

She was mental. James leaned forward, unable to resist her challenge and at the smae time so very, very done. "No, just shut it, I'm not talking about this until you-"

She was quicker than he expected and didn't stop with one punch. After a black eye and a punch to the nose that shattered his glasses and painful blow to his stomach that knocked the wind out of him he pulled his wand on her.

She froze, her breathing heavy, and stared at the thin piece of wood on her neck. Her eyes were wild with fright, as though, in that one moment she remembered that he had power far beyond her own.

He returned his wand to his pocket.

"Crazy bastard." She spat.

And James knew it was wrong but the words shot from his mouth as though flung straight from hell. "Stupid muggle."

She stopped, backed away from him and stared at him blankly. "Is that what I am? A _stupid __**muggle**_?"

The fight was gone from her voice, she sounded... pathetic. His strong, beautiful, powerful Izzy was reduced to a whelp because of him. So he didn't answer, because he couldn't. How was he supposed to come back from such a _racist _comment?

She grit her teeth. "Don't expect me back. I'm not spending the rest of my summer here. I can't stand this place anyway - too many happy people who _think _they get me but don't. Don't see why I'm here in the first place. I'm just a stupid muggle."

"Izzy." He began but she had turned her back on him and she didn't look back.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello! I've recently accepted that I work best when I have several projects to work on at once so there's no point in not publishing more than one project at once. So up now is a multi-chap about Ted and Andromeda Tonks called "Vice-Versa" and I would love it if you would check it out and leave a review. I'm kinda paranoid and I really don't think this is appropriate for all 13 year olds, that's why I've rated it M but there will never be an explicitly sexual scene in this story, I'm no good at writing smut and I don't like writing it either so that's that. If you think it could pass as T let me know and I may change the rating.

**A/N II: **I also now have a tumblr in which I'm posting my original fiction. The link's on my profile and it's: gwencthompson . tumblr . com. I'd love it if you'd check it out, my original stuff is what I'm most proud of, so hopefully you'll like it.

Best Wishes, Gwen


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Consequences**

I stood dumbly before the cardboard box and dufflebag I had been calling home for the last two months and wondered what to wear. Normally I wasn't picky, if it was comfy and didn't make me look homeless I was fine with it. But this morning my outfit would determine my day. If I went with shorts and a t-shirt my day would be simple and painful. If I went with the red sundress my day would be complicated and _extremely _painful. Shorts and t-shirt however held no hope things getting better, while the red sundress carried a miniscule chance that I'd feel better than miserable tonight.

There was knock and I nearly jumped out my towel. "Just a sec." I called out.

"Still not dressed?" The door opened, it was just Sophie. "You've been out of the shower for thirty minutes already."

"Yeah, well, it could be a big day today... or it might not."

She sat on her bed. "Those are deep thoughts for seven in the morning, during summer too."

I took a deep breath. "Vic and Teddy are getting married at noon."

"Ja- Vic Weasley?" Sophie asked hesitantly.

I nodded. After I left the Burrow a month ago I had talked to my parents (God, that was still a weird concept), Grandmum Weasley and the Forbes'. I'd told them that I wanted as much time with my friends before the move and we decided that I would stay with Sophie and Max for the remainder of the summer. When Dad and Tasha returned from the Canary Islands they went straight to our new home in London and I stayed with the Forbes. In all that time I still hadn't talked to James. I hadn't breathed a word to anyone about our fight but I knew Sophie had picked up on enough know not to mention him.

"Your Dad and Tasha are going?" She asked.

I nodded.

"And you?"

"Still deciding."

You could've heard a pin drop. I groaned, grabbed the red sundress and hid in the closet to change. Part of me knew that I could change my mind later, but all of me knew that I wouldn't. When I exited the closet Sophie grabbed my shoulders, sat me down on the floor and began to attack my hair with a comb.

"Isabelle Miranda Cross, you spill this minute."

"Why?" I demanded.

"Because you are _the _link between me and my future husband, so if you two have had a falling out, we're doomed and I shall never have the last name Potter."

I snorted.

"Seriously though, what happened?"

I shrugged. "We just had a stupid fight."

"If it was 'just a stupid fight' you wouldn't be here right now."

"I don't want to talk about it." I complained, wanting to move away, but unable to since she was tugging and twisting my hair, styling it for the wedding.

"I know. But what are you going to tell him when you see him today?"

I stayed silent. She was trying to break me, to get me to open up and pour my heart out. But I wasn't going to do it! She couldn't make me!

She continued to pull on my hair. "How about this: I know you didn't mean anything you said and I didn't mean anything I said so let's put the past behind us and blame it all on tempers, yeah?"

"He attacked me." I spat out. It was true. The prig had pulled his bloody wand on me. What kind of person _did _that?

Sophie paused. "What do you mean... attacked you?"

I thought for a moment. "A knife. I was... I mean, I was punching him and stuff but he... he put a knife to my throat."

"You- did you tell anyone?"

"No. He didn't mean it, I know. And I'm not hurt or anything. They, they train with knives and stuff - for defense - at the school. He could've just, like, stunned me with it, using the blunt end or whatever. And it was just a threat but, you know, he could've, if he'd wanted to."

"You should have told his Dad." Sophie said softly. "I can guess that James has got a fiery temper but... threatening someone weaker than him whose unarmed...that can get dangerous really quick."

"Yeah, I guess I should. I _was _beating him up though." Why was I even defending him? I was still mad at him. "I guess he just forgot I didn't go to his school and know all that stuff. Actually, I _know _he remembered. He... he made fun of me, for not being, er, special enough for their school. Of course, I'd just called him a bastard."

"So... not 'just a stupid fight'?" Sophie asked slyly.

"No, God, I don't even remember how it began. Wait...I was leaving, to take care of some things for the move. And...well, everything just sort of spilled out about him not caring about me and being a rubbish friend."

"He's a rubbish friend?" She must have finished what she was doing to my hair and turned me around to see what it looked like from the front.

"He didn't know _anything._"

"Define 'anything.'"

"Anything. You know what, Sophie, I can't-"

She covered my mouth with her hand. "You are _moving _to _London _in a _week. _And far as _I _know you've shut off _everyone _you know! Me, Max, Rachel, your Dad, Tasha, Damian, James, _everyone. _Yeah, you're going through a lot of shit right now and acting like a bitch and I really can't stand to be in the same room as you, but I'm not letting you leave lonely because friends don't let friends go lonely, _especially _when their going through shit and acting like a bitch."

I felt tears spring to my eyes and threw my arms around my friend.

"Things will be okay." She told me. "You're not the first girl to lose her Mum or have a step-mum or move or have a brother at boarding school or fight with her best mate and you're not the last either. Others have turned out fine, you will too."

I smiled weakly and let her go. "I'm just so _mad _at him. He never noticed that I was going through a hard time, the opposite in fact, he acted like everything and anything I did or said was remarkably brilliant. And he didn't know about the move or how hard I was taking everything or-" I froze. "Oh. My. God. Sophie! How could I have been so _stupid! _I've lived with my Dad and brother - two completely male beings - for years! How could I have not known?!"

"Not known what?" She looked hopeful, and she should. I was on the brink of a breakthrough.

"I expected too much of him! I wanted him to be a mind-reader, to get all my hints and to contradict me when I said 'I'm fine.' But James is a bloke, of course he's thick! I was thick to think he wasn't thick!"

Sophie looked a little disappointed but nodded anyway. "So you didn't tell him _anything?_"

I shook my head. "No, but I didn't really want to either. He- he was a safe haven. I didn't have to think about it all when I was with him, I could just ignore it all. But he knew something was off by the end. And I got mad at him for not knowing before, even though that was my fault and then he got mad at me for lying to him. So then I hit him and he was annoying me and I started to beat him up and then he... threatened me and I called him a bastard and he called me- he made fun of me. And that's when I decided to leave."

"So, wait, you haven't talked to him since then?" Sophie asked.

I shook my head. "Nope, and now I've got to go apologize."

"And make it up to him by being a better friend now." She prompted.

I nodded, but didn't look at her. "What do I say?"

"Well, he's got to apologize too. He could have realized earlier and he threatened you and degraded you. But... I mean, I would just say sorry. I know those words can pretty trite, but, what else are you supposed to say?"

I nodded again. "Thanks, Soph."

"No problem. Now, no getting all snobbish when you move to London, all right? And if you start cutting me off I'll hike over there and beat you within an inch of your life, mmkay? No need to be strangers."

I smiled and stood. "Sure thing. I'm going to call my Dad now, see about getting to the Burrow." I caught sight of myself in the mirror. "What did you do to my hair?"

"Do you like it? It's called an Undone Chignon. Close your eyes."

I did as she instructed and she misted it with hairspray, when she was done I examined it more closely. She had twisted my hair and pulled it back into this interesting twist thing at the back of my head. She held it together using those hair-stick things with little jeweled daisies on the end which matched the little white dots at the bottom of my dress. It was more feminine than I normally wore, but hey, I was going to a wedding! Besides, it was better than that horrid pink bridesmaid's dress. Mum had told me that bridesmaid dresses were always hideous and you just put up with it because you love the bride - never had truer words been spoken.

Sophie left me and I called my Dad. "Daddy? It's me."

"Hullo love, coming to the wedding?"

"Yeah, I was hoping to, when are you and Tasha leaving?"

"We're flooing at noon, do you want her to apparate you?"

I shook my head then remembered we were talking on the phone. "Can I take the bus?"

"To Ottery St. Catchpole? That'll take too long."

"That's why I'd be leaving now. Please, Dad? You know I don't like traveling _that _way."

I heard him sigh. "I don't know."

"I'm not a child, Dad, I can ride a bus on my own. And I'll bring extra money in case of emergency and mobile and its portable charger and pepper spray."

He chuckled. "All right, but you'll travel back with us, all right? No busses late at night."

I hoped he could hear my smile. "Thanks Dad."

The bus stop wasn't far from the Forbes' so Max, Sophie and I walked there together and they saw me off. After I paid for my fare I found a window seat near the back of the bus and put my earbuds in so no one would bother me.

Being at the Forbes' had given me time and space to think. For one thing, the most crowded the house had been was five people, as opposed to the Burrow where seven was the least. For another thing there had been a lot of down time when we weren't sure what we wanted to do as opposed to the Burrow where there was _always _something happening. Also there had been the long bus rides to and from London, waiting on hold for the realtor, the mover, the painter or that lady who was fixing the boiler. Now, as I rode to the Burrow I had even more time to think and I couldn't say I was upset about it.

By the time I reached the village I had come to a decision. I knew what I had to do; I knew it would be hard but I knew I had to do it. I was resolved and nothing could change my mind. So when I entered the Burrow and was hit with ten thousand sounds, sights and scents that made me feel like I was coming - well, _that _- I decided to go outside and find my family. And when I saw messy-haired, crooked glasses chaser James Potter, I ducked behind a corner and avoided him like the plague. Nope, my mind was not changing.

Dad, Tasha and Damian had already found their seats under the enormous white and sky blue tent that was serving as the sanctuary.

Dad stood to hug me. "Did you have a safe trip?"

"Yeah, it was fine. How're things in London?"

He grinned. "Absolutely lovely. Everything's going so smoothly, it's as though the realtors and movers already knew everything without me saying a word!"

I smiled to myself and hugged Tasha and then Damian, who didn't hug me back. "Hey buddy, what's up?"

He glared at me out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not speaking to you."

I shoved his shoulder playfully. "Yeah, real mature, Damian. What's wrong?"

He looked at me. "I know what you're going to do. I'll even bet I knew before you did. And it's stupid, so I'm not talking to you."

I felt my cheeks get hot with anger. "Oh yeah? How do you know what I'm going to do? We've barely talked in a year!"

He faced me, glowering fiercely, his white scars standing out against his flushed cheeks and nose. "And who's fault is that, I wonder? Surely not the girl who's made herself unavailable _all _summer."

"Sh." Tasha instructed. "It's starting."

I watched as the bridesmaids came down the aisle: Dominique, Siobhan Wood, Lydia and Connie Finch-Fletchley, Molly and Rose. Then came the flower girls: Amelia, Chloe, Alice and Charlotte. Finally Victoire came, her dress was a simple floor length white gown and the plainness of it only seemed to enhance her natural beauty. There were no two ways about it, she was beautiful; I glanced at Uncle Bill, who looked stricken, and Teddy who was slack-jawed and knew that I wasn't the only one who thought so.

"You're going to run away." Damian hissed in my ear. "And it's stupid. Don't run away from stuff that makes you happy just because it's complicated."

I elbowed him. "You're not changing my mind."

"Oh no." He whispered back. "I gave up trying to change your mind when I was four and you insisted on trimming my fringe."

"I was seven!" I argued.

He shrugged. "The point is, I'm not trying to change your plan, I'm merely telling you that your plan is stupid and destined to fail, backfire or both."

"Gee, your confidence is so reassuring."

Fuzz raised an eyebrow. "I must be worse at rhetoric than I thought. Now hush, Aunt Muriel is glaring at us funny - it's a wonder that witch can still hear."

The ceremony was lovely and yet simple. After the kiss, which was followed by cheers, tears and whoops of delight we all stood and Grandmum Weasley waved her wand and all chairs rearranged themselves, mine carrying off my purse around Granddad Weasley's conjured tables that circled a large dance floor. I shot Damian one final glare and began to search for my runaway chair which had settled itself at a table with Rose, Scor, Al, Molly, Fred and Louis.

"Hullo, all." I said, smiling shyly.

"Isabelle!" They shouted practically in unison before enveloping me in a huge group hug.

When they released me they forced me to sit down and began talking all at once.

Scor winked at me. "You look lovely, Isabelle!"

"How've you been?" Molly wanted to know.

"How's the move going, Blondie?" Fred asked.

"You missed the single greatest water-quidditch-football-tennis-team dueling match ever! Teddy, James and Lily were unconscious for three hours!" Al exclaimed.

Lily smiled gleefully. "You should have been here when we repainted the sitting room! It was so much fun."

"You _have _to bring some sort of baked something to the first Hogsmeade, alright? I think we're all in relapse." Louis demanded.

I just smiled and nodded and threw in a "things are fine" every now and again, meanwhile I was internally steeling myself to remain true to my decision. I actually kind of tuned them out until I heard Fred call out what I dreaded most.

"Hey James! Blondie's back!"

I tugged Fred's sleeve. "Oh no, that's fine, you don't have to-"

He just smiled and shook me off. "It's no problem. JAMES! GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE!"

I winced and looked across the tent to where James stood, looking caught between coming over and ignoring Fred's summons. I went for the indifferent approach, I met his eyes, shrugged my shoulders and looked away, letting him know that I really didn't care either what he did.

He came over.

"Hullo Izzy."

"Hullo James."

He sat and we ate and chatted about Quidditch and the wedding and football and not wanting term to start and the weather. Yes, the tension between James and I dragged the table down so much that Scor _actually_ brought up the weather. A little bit after that nearly everyone was stuffed with Grandmum Weasley's cooking and Molly stood.

"Looks like the music is starting. C'mon Louis, dance with me." She grabbed her cousin's hand, threw me a pointed look and walked to the middle of the dance floor.

"Yeah." Scor said, exchanging a look with Fred. "I really want to dance, C'mon Rosie."

Rose rolled her eyes and stood complaining, "Don't call me Rosie, _Scorp." _

I realized what was happening and looked pleadingly at Fred. "Fred-"

"Nope, sorry, blondie, Al and I have things to do."

Al looked up from his plate of food. "We do? I'm still eating. Whatever it is get James or Makai to help you out with it later."

"Nope. We - as in you and I - have got _that thing _that needs doing."

James interjected. "Fred you don't need to-"

Fred cut him off with a wave of his hand. "No problem, lovies. Al, come _on._" With that he left dragging a disappointed Al who was gazing longingly at his half finished meal.

I looked at my hands instead of at James and was half disappointed and half relieved when he stood up to move. Then a thrill of joy and agony rushed through me as he sat down in the chair next to me.

"Izzy-" He began.

I cut him off and rushed into my apology. "I'm sorry James. I'm sorry that I lied to you and kept you in the dark and got mad at you for not figuring things out when I deliberately hid them from you. I'm sorry we fought and I'm sorry I hit you and I'm sorry I called you a bastard and there's no excuse and... I'm just really sorry." I finished bitterly.

He was quiet for a moment then smiled halfheartedly. "You know you gave me a black eye." I looked up at him. "Seems to be a habit of yours actually. Broke my glasses too, though that was an easy fix. Had to run to Grandmum Weasley and get her to heal me all secret-like so no one would see."

Despite the situation I cracked a small smile, which I'm sure was his plan, and then he plunged into his own apology. "I'm sorry too, Izzy. I'm sorry I didn't notice something was up sooner, I'm sorry I was distracted and I'm sorry we fought. Mostly I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry that I threatened you like that and called you...well, that doesn't need repeating. It was so wrong and I was angry and I've got this horrible raging temper and I should've controlled myself but I didn't. And you can have _no _idea how much I've beat myself up over it and I'm just so sorry."

I nodded. He looked pretty bad, his brown eyes were dull and his hair was in every direction as he kept running his hands through it with a violent nervousness. I believed that he had beat himself up for it.

"I forgive you." I replied.

His face broke into a grin. "Me too. Friends again? I'm going make this up to you, you'll see."

I smiled and nodded. We would still be friends, and the night was still young so I could hold off telling him my plan for a little while longer.

"I've got one question though, Izzy."

I raised my eyebrows jokingly. "Only one?"

"For now." He took a deep breath. "Um, what _exactly _were you doing with the move and everything. I mean...you didn't, like, buy and sell houses behind your Dad's back did you?"

I laughed, full out belly laughed at the concerned look on his face. "Of course not, you nimrod, that's not even legally possible! No, I was just...well, I'll start from the beginning. The house in London is bought, done, that was taken care of before the wedding even. The plan was that the movers would come while we were all away, pack up our stuff and put it in storage until Dad and Tasha got back from the Canary Islands and they'd unpack it under their supervision. Also selling the old house would be taken care of then too."

"Sounds like a good plan to me." James commented. "So why didn't you follow it?"

"Shut up, James, I'm not finished yet. First thing was that Mr. Sweeney, the realtor, found this family that _really _wanted to see the house and could only come the first week of July. He left a message at the old house, which I received, asking for the keys and whatnot. So I helped him out and went to make sure everything was in order etcetera. Then, well, he wanted quotes from us about the house and the house's history and what the neighborhood and village and schools were like. Most of that was done over the phone, but I had to go into Ottery St. Catchpole to do that since the service here," I motioned to the Burrow behind us "is rubbish. Then the movers ran into a problem storing everything, especially Dad's lab equipment, so I went to London a few times to see to that. Then the boiler in the new house was broken so I saw to helping out the lady who fixed _that. _And there was the company we hired to repaint the rooms and such so I made sure that went fine too."

James was glaring at me now. "Anything else that needed doing? Maybe you should have solved world hunger and cured lycanthropy while you're at it."

"Whatever, James. I don't know what you're on about."

"None of that was your job, mate. You should've got your parents to care for that!"

"They were in _Spain._"

He snapped his fingers. "Apparition."

I slouched in my chair. "They were on their _honeymoon_. Besides it was _little _stuff, I didn't mind it and I was perfectly capable and if something really wrong had happened I would've phoned them straightaway."

He shook his head. "That's not the point Izzy. I've half a mind to go tell your Dad everything. If you've got this Mum-complex, that's a serious problem and it needs to be fixed."

"What the hell is a 'Mum-complex'?" I demanded.

He rolled his eyes. "The phrase hardly matters. You know what I'm talking about: I've taken care of my Dad and brother and everything since I was nine, I've got to keep doing that no matter what, even though I've now got a step-mum and even though my Dad doesn't _want _me acting like I'm thirty-five, I'm going to do it anyway because I must be a martyr for my family and no one else can do it as well as I can anyway."

I gripped the table. "I do _not _think that."

"Ah, but you act like that!"

"Oh yeah, well I've got half a mind to tell _your _Dad about you pulling your wand on me and calling me a stupid muggle."

His face went a little pale but he didn't waver. "And why would you do that?"

"Same reason as you, it's 'a serious problem and it needs to be fixed.'"

He slouched against his chair. "I don't like fighting with you."

A nasty retort was on the tip of my tongue but I held it back. "I don't like fighting with you either. But I _am _going to tell your Dad."

He nodded. "Only fair since I'm going to tell yours."

We sat in tense silence for a moment before James held his hand out to me. "Dance with me? We can shake all our worries and frustrations away."

"I don't really dance too well." I confessed.

He smirked. "Well, Dad was traumatized in his 4th year so we've all had lessons since we were kids. I'll help you."

He pulled me up, led me to the edge of the dance floor and grabbed my hands, putting on on his shoulder while he lightly held my waist. "This is a good song, just listen to the beat and follow my lead."

I still hesitated. "But everyone's looking at me, I'm going to make a fool of myself!" It was true, all the cousins and half the adults were staring at us and...was Damian passing little Alice something small and copper?

James interrupted my thoughts. "They're not looking at you, love, they're looking at _me."_

I scoffed and hit him lightly.

"No, it's true. They're looking at me and thinking... how did that bloke get so lucky to have Isabelle Miranda Cross for his girl?"

I pulled back a little. "James..."

He winked. "Just kidding. Now, enough talking! Just...move, like you're a leaf on the wind or something else... fluid. Like water or, I've got it! You are a kite and I am the bloke holding your string. You've just got to follow me when I tug."

With that he pulled me into a move that sent me spinning around and landed me in his arms with a thud. "More like I'm a drunken ape and you're the trainer holding my leash."

He laughed. "Yeah, or that."

I had danced before and Louis and Scor had even persuaded me to dance a bit at Dad and Tasha's wedding part 2, but dancing with James was better. Something about it was more... carefree. I didn't care that I looked like a drunken ape and he didn't care that I moved as winsomely as a boulder. I'm not sure how long we danced or how many songs there were but I was out of breath when James led me back to our table.

"I'll get us some drinks." He stated, walking off. He returned with two cans of pepsi.

"Where in God's name did you get these?" I exclaimed, drinking one thirstily.

He winked. "I have my ways. Now c'mon, to the Quidditch fields."

I wrinkled my nose. "What d'you mean?"

"It's a tradition of sorts, look, everyone who's not a clanner is leaving. Come on and don't worry, you can watch with the kids and Aunt Hermione."

It was true, Vic and Teddy were hugging and bidding farewell to a vast number of the guests and I saw Molly, Rose and Lily racing up to the Burrow to change, letting their hair down and tossing off their shoes as they went.

We got down to the field to find a few of the girls who had simply slipped shorts under their dress robes and most of the boys who seemed content to play in their dress shirts and trousers. We approached the small knot of boys my brother's age.

"You playing Fuzz?" James asked, clapping my brother on the shoulder.

Damian surprised me by rolling his eyes. "Yes, yes, it's purely recreational, I'll be fine. And I'll sit out if I need to, thanks _Mum._"

James through his hands in the up as if to defend himself. "Just making sure."

"So is it going to be girls v. boys or what?" Daeda inquired.

James shook his head as he took off his shoes and socks. "Naw, we'll pick teams but Vic and Teddy will be captains and to win a team has to catch the snitch five times in a row, though it won't matter which seeker does it if they've got more than one."

I raised my eyebrows. "So this is, like, mega-Quidditch?"

"Yeah, more rules for more players." James explained, stripping himself first of his constrictive dress robes, then his shirt.

I averted my eyes from his bare chest. Nope, ogling my very fit best mate would _not _aid me in keeping my resolve from the bus ride.

_Just tell him! _A voice in the back of my head ordered. _Get it over with, like taking off a plaster! And then run...run far far away._

"Don't tell him." Damian mumbled next to me.

I turned to look at him. "What?"

"Come on, you're really good at avoiding problems, don't change that now. Just don't tell him and you'll change your mind in a few days." He begged.

"Something tells me there was an insult hidden in there." I retorted.

He elbowed me and nodded pointedly across the field. James had left us to help Louis carry over the brooms. Again, I quickly looked away. There was something inherently glorious about a well-toned bloke's chest but James had something... magnetic about him and it freaked me out, especially considering what I was planning to do. Let's just say, not for the first time, I wasn't surprised at all that James Sirius Potter had a fan club.

I shook my head and looked at my brother. "You can't change my mind."

"I _know _that, I'm just hoping that _he _has a chance. C'mon Isabelle, stop being so selfish. _I'll_ miss you."

I smiled sadly and ruffled his sandy hair. "I think I've more than earned a bit of selfishness. Besides, you're my _brother,_ it's not like I'm going to shut _you _out."

"Not yet." He muttered.

I ignored him. "So what position do you play?"

He grinned. "Well, I can never really play, I haven't the stamina. It's complete rubbish but there it is. So I basically just fill in, I like chaser best, though. Oh, look, Vic and Teddy are here. We'll be splitting soon."

I made my way to the stands where I sat beside Chloe, Uncle George's youngest, who was explaining the sport to Alice and the Scamander twins.

The game was magnificent. Each team had about twelve people and there were three quaffles, and six beaters going around. The snitch was caught at least every ten minutes but it took a few hours before one team was able to catch it five times consecutively. In the end Victoire's team won, but it certainly wasn't because Teddy's team wasn't trying. As they all celebrated I decided to say goodbye to the Burrow itself. I had no idea when I'd return again and I relished the idea of bidding it farewell on my own.

Every room held a hundred memories: putting 'out of order' signs on each of the toilets in the boys' water closet; games of truth or dare in the Molly's room; three hour long Sunday breakfasts in the kitchen; reading muggle fairy tales to the kids in the playroom; listening to wizarding horror stories at midnight in the living rooms; looking out windows to find the view had been charmed so it looked upside down. I was so wrapped up in the past I didn't flinch when I passed by Dina the house elf, nor did I watch where I was going as I rounded a corner and ran into a large sweaty man.

"Sorry, Isabelle."

I looked up, it was Uncle Harry. He had been the seeker on Vic's team to catch the winning snitch and he was drenched with perspiration from the match. "No, it was my fault, I should have watched where I was going."

He entered the kitchen, took a vial from the top shelf and drank the purplish contents. He threw me a half smile. "Nothing to worry about, just combatting a little infection I caught out in the field. The best part is now I get to eat as much sugar as I can hold. Toffee?"

He held out a bag of toffees and I accepted one, steeling myself for a conversation I did _not _want to have. "Uncle Harry, may I speak to you about something?"

He swallowed a mouthful of sweets. "Certainly, but I can't promise I'll be able to answer you right away. I wasn't kidding about the sugar, I need to eat as much as I can right now, Healer's orders."

I nodded and took a deep breath. "It's about James."

"Ah." He remarked, spooning himself a bowl of pudding.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you noticed but about a month ago, right before I left, we had a fight."

He nodded, motioning for me to continue.

I began to wring my hands nervously. "And, well, it's all resolved now. It was both of our faults, though it was more my fault. But... Uncle Harry, you must promise not to be too angry with him, he's punished himself for it horribly, I know he has, but..."

He raised his eyebrows in a way that so much like his son I would have laughed if his face hadn't looked so severe. "What has my son done?"

I bit my lip, wanting to chicken out, but knowing I had gone too far "I- I provoked him. You have to know that first. I was being completely unfair to him and punching him and hitting him and stuff."

"But?" Uncle Harry prompted.

I looked at the floor. "He pulled his wand on me... Now that I'm saying it out loud it seems silly. I mean, your kind are different and-"

He interrupted me. "Not so different."

I met his brilliant green eyes which were hard with... disappointment? anger? sorrow? "He didn't hurt me, and I don't think he meant to, but... it scared me, you know? And he _has _apologized and promised to make up for it and everything."

Uncle Harry nodded. "Thank you for telling me, Isabelle, it was right of you. Was that all?"

I was so so tempted to say yes, to just say yes and leave because as disappointed as I could tell he was, the next bit was ten times worse, especially considering what I knew of the War. But Uncle Harry would want to know the full truth, and I suspected James wanted him to know too. I shook my head. "I- well, after he backed off, I called him- I called him a bastard and then... he called me a stupid muggle."

I thought Uncle Harry's eyes would pop from his head. "I am so sorry. You must know that that is not true in-"

I cut him off. "James acted in a moment of anger. I get that, and he's apologized for that too. I mean, like I said, I called him a _bastard._ But as weird as I feel for tattling on him, I think you should know... just in case."

He nodded solemnly. "Yes, thank you. You were very brave to come and tell me."

I shrugged. "I told him I was going to, he seemed... frightened, but accepting, like he knew he deserved it."

Uncle Harry nodded. "He better know he deserves it."

We stood there in slightly shocked silence for a moment before I remembered something. "Uncle Harry, sugar."

He blinked and seemed to wake up. "Right, thank you. What are _you _doing here, if I may ask." He grabbed a couple biscuits and tossed them in his mouth.

I waved my hand to motion to the house around us. "Saying goodbye."

He nodded. "I know. Been nearly thirty years since I first came here and I _still _have a hard time calling anywhere else home. Except Hogwarts, of course. But you'll be back. I'm sure Mum and Dad will be happy if you drop in when you're feeling a bit homesick."

I wrinkled my nose and decided not to contradict him, as much as I loved the Burrow it wasn't my _home. _My home was... well, I didn't really have a home.

"I'm actually not sure if I'm going to be coming back, see. And if I do, it most likely won't be for a while."

Again he raised his eyebrows in that James-eque way. "No? Going somewhere are we?"

I shrugged, noncommittally. "It's kind of complicated but... I'm just not sure where I fit in your world, you get me?"

He munched on some Honeydukes contemplatively. "You know my mother was a muggleborn."

I looked at him, a little shocked. Somehow I felt like I should have known that, considering Mr. Dursley was his cousin and he was a muggle, but I'd never really thought about it.

"And I was raised by her sister, my Aunt. The muggle-sister of a very famous witch who even her parents favored."

The comparison wasn't exactly true, my Dad didn't favor Damian to me at all, but I think Uncle Harry knew that too.

"She was jealous of my Mother, couldn't forgive her for having powers that she couldn't understand or for going away for most of the year or for joining a world she only ever heard fantastic and terrifying things about. So she rejected my world, she shut herself off and refused to accept or acknowledge it. For years she refused to believe I was a wizard/"

I nodded, seeing where he was going with this. "Uncle Harry, I'm not saying you're world is evil, or wrong or anything like that."

He poured himself a mug of tea and began to add several spoonfuls of sugar. "I never said you were. And neither am I saying that my Mum or my Aunt were were in the right or in the wrong. Rarely is blame and hurt black and white. My point is the two sisters were forced apart before they should have been and they never had a chance to work things out. My world may not have a designated place for sisters like you, but that hardly matters. Fight to stay close to those you love no matter what - they're who matter most. More than what's easy and certainly more than the ministry." As he added the last bit he absently rubbed the back of his hand.

"So what are you telling to do?" I practically wailed.

"I'm just trying to give you as much information as possible. And giving a bit of wisdom that I learned at a great price at a young age: the people you love are the most important thing you have, do _not _take them for granted because you just never know."

I lifted my chin up to look him straight in the eyes. "I've learned that lesson too, Uncle Harry."

He had the grace to look a little abashed, but he pressed on. "Then you don't need me telling you what to do."

I sighed. "Thank you for everything. This has all been so wonderful." With that I turned on my heel and left him. There was something undeniably aggravating about Potter men and I wanted no more of it. He didn't understand. He didn't know what it was like, living half in one world and half in another and not knowing what to say to who and where to turn with what problem and not knowing how to keep going with all of this in the future.

That's what all this was about: the future. I'd known since the beginning that I couldn't do this, I couldn't live in two worlds forever. So the sooner I picked, the better, right? Cut my losses and avoid the inevitable pain that would come in turning my back on a world I had lived in for years.

As I left the Burrow I was so caught up in myself again that once more I ran into someone. It was James, he was wearing a shirt now but he was drenched in stinky boy-slime. The person I needed to see most and wanted to see least.

"Goddammit you stupid Potters!"

He grabbed my arm to steady me and I'm ashamed to say I flinched, making him go red in the face and back away. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. What are you doing here?" I huffed, straining to keep my tone level.

"Looking for you." He replied, grinning shiftily.

I took a deep breath. "Good because we have to talk."

He raised his eyebrows, reminding me of his Dad and further dampening my spirits. "A good talk or a bad talk?"

"A neutral one." I lied.

He sat on the porch and I joined him, remembering sitting on my own front porch nearly two years ago, sipping Pepsi.

I braced myself, there was no way this was going to come out making sense. "I'm... James, I'm leaving."

He chuckled. "Yeah, you can't stay at the Burrow forever, wish you could but-"

"No James, I'm... I'm leaving your world. I've been thinking on it and I can't live in both worlds, I just can't - no one can. My family has made their decision, but now it's time for me to make mine. And I, I can't do that if I'm constantly going back and forth."

"So... what are you saying?"

"I'm not coming back... and I don't think, I don't think we should really, you know, communicate anymore."

He was silent and I noticed his fists were tightly clenched. But when he spoke his voice was almost lighthearted. "So, you don't want to be friends anymore?"

"That's not it." I said quickly. "And maybe I will choose this world and come back but... until I make that decision I can't... and I certainly can't make any promises."

He looked me up and down curiously, as though trying to read me like a book written in a foreign language. "To hell with that." He finally muttered.

I wrinkled my nose. "What did you say?"

"To. Hell. With. That." He enunciated. "Look, I get that you're pretty screwed up right now. And I get that you might start acting like a shite friend. And I'm almost okay with that. But if you think that means that _I'll _start acting like a shite friend, you're wrong. I'm better than that. So... yeah, expect letters and invites to Hogsmeade and clan functions and if I get desperate I might even show up at your house."

I rolled my eyes. "You don't even know where I live anymore."

He shrugged. "I'll ask Fuzz, I'm pretty sure he's on my side on this one. You're still a clanner and you can't just _decide _not to be friends with someone anymore. Life doesn't work like that."

I was shocked. First Sophie, now James. They wouldn't let me leave. They weren't giving up on me. And here I was, rubbing their good intentions in their faces. This whole time I thought I'd be taking a vacation in a way, but Damian was right. I was running away. Because that's what it's called, isn't it? When you want to go away and no one else wants you to, you're running away.

"I can't promise you anything-" I began but he cut me off. God, why did he always have to interrupt?

"Don't you get it, Izzy? I don't care!" His voice softened. "I'm not letting you go that easily." He brought his face close to mine, so close I could see the drops of sweat hanging off his nose.

And I figured it out. Oh, my God. He was about to kiss me. KISS _ME_. What was I supposed to do? How was a girl supposed to react when her extremely fit best bloke mate makes a move on her? Especially after he's just proved himself to be a much better friend than she could hope to be? Was I supposed to let him kiss me? Should I run away? What did this even mean? Did he like me? How long had he liked me? Did I like him? What did this mean for our friendship? What did this mean for my plan to abandon the wizarding world? Did any of this mean anything?

It was too much. I decided to go with my gut but I was too late. James was kissing me. His lips were softer than I would have imagined. But then again I had never imagined kissing him, or anyone for that matter. It was simple, brief and surprisingly gentle and before I could really wrap my mind around everything it was over. My first kiss. James leaned back and looked at me, gauging my reaction. Then he sighed.

"Alright, I get it. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." I replied. And it was, but I didn't want it to happen again.

He smirked. "I'm still writing you and stuff. And I hope you choose my world because I'll be waiting."

I shook my head. "I don't want you to wait for me."

He stood up to leave. "Not like _that_. I'll be waiting because you, Isabelle Miranda Cross, will always be my best mate."

"Goodbye James Sirius Potter." I stammered, the words sounding hollow and strange in this new silence that was too uncomfortable to be called awkward and too final to be called tense.

He turned as if to say something to me but I stood and ran off as quickly as my dignity would let me. James had seen me cry a dozen times before, he didn't need to see me cry again.

* * *

The first day of school was rubbish like most first days are. Especially since Damian was still free to have fun and add the final details to the London House. I found my way around Lori Elizabeth Prep with the aid of the Prefects, who were all like Prefects should be: professional, courteous and helpful. The girls in my class seemed nice enough and Janice had told me that the girl's football team was second in their division and would welcome a good defender. Basically it was boring and normal and filled with forms and schedules and meeting people and first impressions. I decided that all friends should be made by either growing up together like Sophie, Max and I or via facing certain death together and surviving like James and I. I wondered if it would be so bad to let, say, a Troll into the school in the hopes of gaining a mate.

Yes, I was still upset with the way things had gone down with my old friends, especially with James. But there was no looking back now, right? Besides, James may not have _wanted _to make things weird between us, but he had. When I got home from that first rubbish day all I wanted to do was hide under my quilt and pretend I was... somewhere else. Instead there was a letter of parchment written in a spiky inky scrawl.

James.

It was like saying hello. But a safe hello that had nothing to do with magic, muggles, kisses or front porches. He was getting ready to go to Hogwarts in a few days. He invited me to the King's Cross, but I'd have school anyway, so it was impossible. He told me that his father had given him a long lecture about power, girls, muggles, respect and chivalry. He'd been sentenced to spending the remainder of his summer Holiday, from the day after Vic and Teddy's wedding volunteering at Black's Home for Witches and Children, the halfway home/clinic that Scor's Mum, Grandmum and Great-Aunt ran.

He was absolutely miserable, saying that he didn't understand females at all and thought we were too sensitive to everything. He also complained about the language, for one reason or another nearly all the staff spoke either French or Irish (or both) fluently. There was also the issue of cooking (which he claimed he was horrible at) and cleaning (he was being worked "like a house elf"). But worst of all was Scor (who he still called 'Malfoy'). He was working with Scor almost all day and they still hadn't learned to get on properly.

I chuckled, his Dad really knew how to teach lessons. His family was doing well and he was "doing just fine." Vic and Teddy were still in France and had all worked together to get their house arranged before they returned. He hoped the move went smoothly and that my new school was good. He was pumped for the Quidditch season and told me to "kick arse in football" and then the letter was over. It was like another goodbye. The kind of goodbye that ripped through you because you knew there was still so much unsaid and you had no idea if all of it could, should or would ever be said.

I sighed, there was no way I'd be able to nap properly after James' letter. Instead I prepped myself to delve into my new textbooks, I wasn't dumb but school didn't exactly come naturally to me and I was intent on shifting from my old curriculum to the new one as painlessly as possible.

There was a knock on the door.

"Enter."

It was Dad. "Meet me in my office in five?"

I nodded. He looked...upset, what about I wasn't sure.

The best part about our new house was the space. I had grown up in what's called a "starter home" for young couples with just a kid or two... the fact that we now had a bigger house and the guest room was wallpapered with yellow ducks was something I didn't want to think about. I'd tried to convince myself that we had just moved so Tasha could be closer to St. Mungo's and Dad to his new job here, but seeing as they apparated to work each morning kind of blew that theory to hell.

I entered Dad's new office and the first thing I noticed was the armchair. Mum's pink armchair was in it's proper place right next to Dad's desk, but the doilies were mussed up. Someone had sat in it and I knew exactly who. I thought for a moment that it might be okay for _me _to sit there too now but I rejected it immediately. The chair wasn't mine, I wasn't exactly sure whose chair it was, but it certainly wasn't mine. I opted for my traditional seat: cross legged on the desk, facing my Dad.

"How's things?" I asked.

"Suspiciously fine." He replied coldly. "You may be interested in this. Mr. Sweeney emailed me yesterday telling me what a phenomenal daughter I had. Naturally I agreed with him, but he went on to praise you for your organizational abilities, punctuality, availability, sense of initiative, flexibility and creativity."

He was staring me down, trying to get me to break, but I wasn't going to, I hadn't done anything wrong!

"At the wedding James approached me and told me that you were taking on too much responsibility. I was loth to believe him but Sweeney's email has further aroused my suspicions. Now I hear from Lynn Hiffer that _you _were the one that let her in here to fix the boiler and the painters had some wonderful things to say about you as well. Also Mr. Mack that there were some issues with some of my equipment and _you _provided the assistance they needed."

"Dad they would have injured themselves or broken something if I hadn't showed up and you know it!" I snapped.

He raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"

I took a deep breath to calm myself. "Dad, why are you so upset? Yes, I helped Mr. Sweeney out a bit and made sure things went smoothly while you were away, is that so bad?"

"Isabelle, that isn't your job. Tasha can _apparate. _You should have let us, the parents, the adults, the owners of both houses, take care of it."

"You were on your honeymoon!" I protested.

"We were in the middle of moving when we left, we would have been silly not to expect interruptions. In fact, we were already suspicious when there weren't. Isabelle, don't tell me you spent your summer working out simple, but countless, details."

I looked away from him. "Fine, I won't."

He sighed. "I'm very disappointed."

"About what? That I wanted to help?"

"No. That you felt the need to." He rubbed my knee affectionately. "I'm as upset with myself as I am with you, probably more actually. Isabelle... Isabelle, look at me."

I obeyed but kept my gaze cold and unyielding.

"I know you're used to picking up the slack around the house, especially since Damian's Fuzzy Accident and I know you're very proud of yourself for all you've done, I am too. But this is _my _home, don't take away my chance to be your father." He paused. "And don't take away Tasha's chance to be the woman of the house either."

I stiffened. Dad and I rarely spoke about Tasha like this. All three of us knew that she was not, under any circumstances, my "new mum" but it was clear she had authority in the house and whatnot. Besides, she and I got on well that our relationship had never been an issue before, but Dad was talking like...

"Dad, I'm not sure I understand." I admitted.

He nodded. "I know. What I'm saying is, your actions hurt her, a lot. She understood that you felt you could do things better than her and didn't need or want her assistance." He put up a hand to quell my protests. "Now, I know those weren't your intentions. But I think, deep down, there could be some truth to this."

I deflated. Was it really that bad that I wanted to take care of things so other people didn't have to? I asked Dad this and he chuckled.

"Oh, you remind me of your Mum more and more each day. No, but you were making yourself miserable and, inadvertently caused problems in your relationship with Tasha, myself, Fuzz and your closest friends."

I hung my head. He was right, this summer was set up to be one of the best of my life and I had mucked it up.

"So what now?" I asked miserably.

"Well, you need an attitude adjustment, that's for sure. At some point, ask Tasha for help. It doesn't have to be something big, but I want you to get into the habit of relying on her."

I nodded and moved to leave but he stopped me. "Slow down, that's more of a... suggestion. We need to discuss your punishment."

I nearly fell off the desk. "Punishment?!" I hadn't been truly punished in...years! I was a good kid, my grades weren't awful, sure I was a prankster but they were never cruel or dangerous and I always cleaned up my messes (if they had somehow managed to trace it back to me, that is).

Dad just nodded. "Now, I can't ground you, that would eliminate your chances of making new friends. I can't cut you off from your old friends as you've basically done that yourself. I thought about banning you from football but that seemed extreme and didn't really fit the transgression. Then Tasha mentioned needing some help in the Lycanthropy ward. But you've elected to... forsake the magical world and I respect that choice. I can't say I like it or think it wise or think that it will make you happy, but I understand and respect it."

I grimaced, this conversation needed to end...now. "So what?"

His eyes took on a mischievous glint. "I thought we'd put your desire to organize and take care of a large project to use. Mr. Pheely, the Administrative Assistant at LEP mentioned that he needed student volunteers for the Benefit Dinner at the end of October. I signed you up."

My grimace deepened. "Really?"

He nodded. "Maybe you'll learn that teamwork exists off the football field."

I sighed, but nodded. This wasn't something I normally did, but it didn't sound horrible either. Who knew? Maybe one day I'd be thanking Dad for this.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I've been so irregular with these things but I don't own any of this and I'm not earning any money from this either. **

**A/N: BIG thank you to Alexiroseni (my sis, bff and beta). I was NOT expecting James to kiss her and it kind of threw me for a loop. Luckily for everyone involved Alexi was able to guide me through my freak-outs to create what I hope was a okay scene. Let me know your thoughts!**

**AND I'M OVER 100 REVIEWS? OMIGOSH YOU ARE AWESOME, DEAR READERS AND I LOVE YOU! HAVE SOME COOKIES!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: I went through hell to get this chapter to you so I hope you're happy. Just thought I'd give you a warning: lots of shit goes down in this chapter so hold onto your hats it will be a very fast ride (like riding the Knight Bus).**

* * *

**Chapter 20: Doing Just Fine**

"Potter, I'm starting to think it's your personal mission to ruin the remainder of my summer and insult every tenant in the Clinic." Malfoy spat, hard gray eyes glaring at James as they pushed large bins of dirty laundry down the hall.

James gripped the bin tighter and huffed angrily. "What did I do this time, Malfoy?"

"Well, let's think." Malfoy began in a fake-jolly voice. "You called Ms. Cole first by her room number then by her _husband's _last name. She's recovering from domestic abuse for crying out loud? Would you ever think call my Aunt Mrs. Davies? No! Then, you refused Madame Chastain's crepes. And back there, with Miss Lewis, I didn't think it was possible to ask the three unmentionable questions in five-minutes."

James raised his eyebrows. "The three unmentionable questions?"

Malfoy nodded, turning into the laundry room and depositing his bin in the corner. "You asked about her weight, her age _and _if she colored her hair. How thick can you get?"

James left his bin by Malfoy's. "_I _didn't know! How am I supposed to know and remember all these little details anyway? Besides it's not like it matters."

For a moment Malfoy looked he was going to hit James but he just sighed. "Come on, Mum wants us to help with the breakfasts for the room-bound now. Sorry, for being hard on you, you haven't grown up around women, so it's only natural you'd be obtuse. However, if you _ever _say that it doesn't matter again I'll hex you into next week."

James fingered his wand in his back pocket. "Not if I hex you first."

Malfoy just shook his head. "Naw, when it comes to this place." He spread his arms, referring to the Clinic. "I think I could best your Dad in a duel. Potter, listen, just because the witches don't _act _like it bothers them, it's best to assume it will. Most of these witches have been on the wrong side of a wand, a fist or an illness for too long. So yeah, they're a bit more sensitive,and none of them would ever show it. _Our _job is to be as kind as possible to them because it really does make a difference. They really do notice and appreciate it if we remember who likes what flower and how exactly they want their tea prepped. Besides" Malfoy winked "we can always use the info to help us out later in far different circumstances."

"Whatever."

"No, no, it's true. I may be short and scrawny, Potter, but while girls fawn over you for your looks, I can keep their attention after I open my mouth to speak."

James just ignored the younger boy and turned into the kitchen. He did _not _want to talk to Malfoy about girls...or anything for that matter.

The kitchen was bustling with house elves readying breakfast. An elderly witch with long dark hair caught Malfoy's attention the moment they entered. "Scorpius! Venez m'aider s'il vous plaît."

"Oui, grand-mère." Malfoy replied, leaving James standing alone, pretty clueless as to what he was supposed to do.

He was only left that way for about half a minute.

"Potter-boy! Quit standing there like a bump on a log!" Brigid Finnegan's thick Irish accent shocked him back into reality. The very pretty, very curvy middle-aged witch handed James a heavy tray of flowers in vases. "Put one on each outgoing breakfast tray."

James nodded, trying not to let the ex-convict scare him; he wasn't exactly sure _what _the woman had done to end up in Azkaban, but on his first day Malfoy had warned him that she had served five years and didn't even regret it. "Sure thing Mrs. Finnegan."

"Oi! None of that 'Missus-ing' from you, _pháiste, _you'll have me old before my time!" She replied, blue eyes flashing with what James was sure was murderous rage.

James nodded again and rushed to obey murmuring to himself. "What _am _I supposed to call them, women are bloody confusing!"

"What was that, _pháiste_?" Mrs. Finnegan asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Call me Brie-dee. That's B-R-I-D-E, like Saint Brigid herself. As for everyone else, call her 'Miss.' If she's old she'll think you're being sweet, if she's middle-aged you'll boost her ego and if she's young she'll think you're being respectful." She winked.

"Er, right." James replied, bringing out his wand.

Bride wrapped his shoulder with his clipboard. "No wand waving in my kitchen, you hear?"

"Sorry?" James asked, confused.

The Irish woman took James' wand from him and stuck it in his back pocket. "Now, if you can find a way to do what you want with natural magic, feel free, but you keep that stick in pockets. You'll take out someone's eye."

James sighed and placed a vase of daisies on each tray. "You mean... wandless magic?"

She nodded, labeling the trays with room numbers. "Now, once you're done with that you can deliver these, with your hands, mind you."

"Did you really kill a man?" The question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Her blue eyes flashed like fire and an angry slew of Irish fell from her mouth with such vehemence that James was, for the first time since Vic's wedding, glad he only spoke English. "Who told you that _pháiste?_" She asked quietly.

James gulped. "M-Malfoy, I mean, Scorpius."

She rolled her eyes. "The brat was messing with you, Potter, trying to scare you."

James tried to ignore that turned to go, but Bride gripped his shoulder, stopping him. "It was in the war _pháiste, _granted I was only a bit older than you but the circumstances are too grisly for a boy like you to hear."

James gulped, watching in terrified awe as she ran a hand through her raven hair. "I'll say this though. I stand by what I did. It was the right thing to do. And going to Azkaban for it was the right thing to do too. It was all for my family, the murder, and going to Azkaban too, so they wouldn't grow up to murder like their big sister. Now get on with those breakfasts, _pháiste, _you're keeping the room-bound waiting!"

James nodded and hurried off, too stunned to say much. As he went through the halls he tried to remember all the tips he'd received since he started three days ago. Always knock, only enter if given permission, always smile, if you can't understand what she's saying don't pretend you can, wish them a good morning, offer to help them with whatever they need. Most of the witches who were confined to their rooms were old or obviously ill so James was rather surprised when he entered the last room to find a witch who couldn't have been older than Lily.

"_Bonjour, _Scorpius." The girl said from her position lying on her bed.

"Er, _Bonjour... _not Scorpius." James said entering slowly, breakfast tray in hand.

"_Quel est votre nom?" _The girl asked, reaching her hand forward. James looked at her closely and realized her gray eyes were clouded over - she was blind... and French... an he was screwed.

"Er... I'm James, James Potter, and I don't speak French... _Mademoiselle." _

She gasped slightly then laughed, a soft laugh that sounded like tinkling bells. "Eet eez fine, _Zhames. _I know some Engleesh. Please, my Engleesh book." She was reaching to her left where a braille English-French dictionary lay on the bedside table.

"Ah, of course." James quickly set the breakfast table on the edge of her bed and handed her the book. "Here."

"My name Viola but you must not say _Mademoiselle _or Miss, yes? Eet eez 'ow we call zee.." She flipped through her dictionary. "Yes, how we call zee prostitutes, politely."

James' face reddened. "Sorry."

She laughed again. "Eet eez fine. You are 'Arry Potter's boy, yes?"

James nodded as he placed her tray on the rolling table before remembering he was with a blind girl. "Yeah, that's me."

She smiled. "Scorpius say you come. 'E not like you, I theenk."

James chuckled, her smile was delicate and lovely. James decided to make her smile again. "Er, would you like to eat by your window, Viola? The weather is quite nice."

She shook her head. "You may open zee window. My wand please?"

James took the long, thin, almost white wand from her bedside table and placed it in her long, thin, almost white fingers.

She waved it and murmured an enchantment which caused her mattress to split in half and turn into a large chair, propping her up into a sitting position. "My food, please, _Zhames._"

James rolled the table in front of her so it reached over her lap. "Here. It's eggs, toast, bacon and breakfast tea. Oh, and a carnation." He took the flower and held it under nose.

She smiled again and James felt a strange rush course through him. Yes, Viola, for all her pale lifelessness, was beautiful.

"What eez zee color?" She asked tucking the stem behind her ear and pulling her platinum blonde hair out of her face.

"Er, pink... light pink."

She smiled again. "I love eet. I understand zee colors, _Zhames, _I only lose my eyes a few months ago. I lost my legs a year ago."

James looked down, her legs, though hidden under the patchwork quilt, looked normal. Could she really not move them?

"Zee window, _Zhames._" The girl prompted.

"Right." James quickly opened the window, letting in the late August breeze and the sounds of the sounds of birds singing.

"Zhank you." Viola said, granting him another smile as she found her teacup and brought it to her pink lips. "I know you 'ave zee chores to do. Per-aps you will see me later_."_

James gulped. "Yeah, see you. H-have a nice morning."

"And you, _Au-revoire."_

"Bye." James left, closed the door softly behind him and leaned against the wall. So far he had spent little one-on-one time with the women and children the clinic serviced. Those he had met were the older witches in the Assisted Living ward or the mothers picking up their children from the playroom after meetings, classes or Healer appointments. Viola was…she was someone entirely different.

"James." A kind voice interrupted his thoughts and his eyes flew open to see anolder witch with graying hair.

"Aunt Andi!" James said, standing up straight. "I was just delivering the breakfasts. Do you need something?"

"James, you look a little pale, are you alright?" She touched his shoulder gently.

"I'm doing just fine." James went over to his now empty cart and began pushing it back towards the kitchens.

Andromeda Tonks looked over at Viola's door and a wave of understanding came across her face. She rushed to catch up with him. "When you get back to the kitchens ask Bitsy to collect the breakfast trays, you can man washing the dishes. It'll give you time to think."

James nodded and went to obey, even though the last thing he wanted to do at the moment was think.

* * *

It was August 31, the next day James would return to Hogwarts. James didn't like to admit it but he had become a little... attached to the Clinic. There were some things he knew he wouldn't miss: the five am wake up calls, Bride's hatred of wands, the headache inducing French and Irish-Gaelic, Madame Helaine's yapping rat-like dog, the endless list of chores or the ill-behaved kids he was always straddled with in the playroom. But James knew he would miss the piano in the lobby that was always being played, the kindness of Mrs. Malfoy and all the staff and the joy and healing expressed by the women and kid they were serving.

James felt a hand on his shoulder, reminding him that kneeling in mud and supposed to be weeding the garden. He looked up to see Astoria Malfoy standing over him. "Distracted, James?"

"Sorry, Ma'm, I'll get back to work."

She shook her head, took his hand and helped him stand up. James wasn't exactly tall but he already towered over the woman who had founded and now ran the best home for witches in need in the entire UK. "Go clean up James, then go home."

"It's only noon. I'm supposed to stay all day, remember?"

She nodded. "I know what your father said but it's your last day of summer, you should enjoy it. Besides, you've helped us so much these past two weeks, everyone has had good things to say about you."

James found himself grinning like an idiot. "Thank you. I've- I've enjoyed it. What you're doing, Mrs. Malfoy, it's all fantastic."

"Thank you James. If you ever want to help again, the doors are open." Then she hugged him, not caring that he was covered in dirt and sweat. "Now, if you want to have some fun this afternoon without your Dad knowing I may or may not have heard Rosie mention to Scor that they were going to meet up at the Leaky Cauldron at two."

"Thank you." James turned to leave. "I'll just say goodbye to everyone."

James made his rounds to the kitchens, the offices, the tea room, the sitting rooms and to a few rooms of the room bound. A few of the women got teary eyed when James told them he was off to Hogwarts the next day. Bride Finnegan,who only volunteered in the summer, told him that he should visit her and her boys in Ireland and then she would show him what _real _magic was like. Scor's Aunt Daphne thanked him for convincing her sister, Astoria, they needed a Quidditch Pitch and Aunt Andi promised to see him again soon. Narcissa Black simply smiled and nodded at him as he left but that was more she had done in his entire time there.

James was about to apparate to London when he remembered Viola. Th ha grow rather close over their mutual love for muggle mystery novels and James had take to visiting her room once a day. He checked her room but it was empty, someone must have taken her out in her rolling chair. After looking in the extensive gardens and the tea room he found her in the lobby. At the piano. With Scorpius.

"Hullo, Viola." He said, approaching her and touching her shoulder.

"_Zhames. _Come, listen, Scorpius is 'elp me learn zis new song."

"Is that so?"

James looked at the blonde boy who just shrugged. "I play it first, then help her find the right keys to play it back. She's doing brill, actually."

James raised an eyebrow. "Show me."

Viola flashed him one of her characteristically beautiful smiles and began to play. The song was soft and slow but had an undertone of joy to it. She went on for a minute before stopping.

"And zat eez all I know. I theenk eet weel be zat way for some time. Scorpius go to 'Ogwarts tomorrow. And you too, yes, _Zhames_?"

"Yeah." James replied. "Yeah, Mrs. Malfoy gave me the afternoon off, I've come to say goodbye."

Viola wheeled herself out from the piano, reached out for James' hand then kissed him once on each cheek. "Zank you, _Zhames, _you 'ave been very kind to me,I weel mees you."

"I'll miss you too. I'll write you, okay?"

"Zat weel be good. I will 'ave Madame Astoria translate and read zem to me."

Scor stood. "I should be going too, Viola, I'll stop by before I go to the station tomorrow."

Viola smiled and kissed both of Scor's cheeks too. "_Tre bien, au revoir, _Scorpius. _Adieu Zhames."_

For one reason or another Scorpius looked alarmed. "Viola, _fillette, _don't say that. Don't you dare, James will be back next summer. Right, Potter?"

"Y-yeah. I'll come back for visits, yeah."

Viola smiled sadly. "I know."

Scor gently held her shoulders and looked right into her sightless eyes. "_Pas adiuex; nous ne laissons pas les adieux se passent ici. Comprenez-vous?"_

"_Oiu , _Scorpius." The little girl said, looking downcast.

Scorpius glared at her once more. "I'll make sure Mother comes around to take you back to your room. Come on, Potter."

James hugged Viola, promised to write again and then followed Scor deeper into the clinic. "Malfoy, what was _that _about?"

"Nothing." Scor snapped. "You going to the Cauldron?"

James nodded.

"Tell Rosie I'll be there soon. I'm just going to restock the WCs with toilet paper." He took out his ring of keys and opened up the supply closet.

"Let me help." James said. "They won't miss me anyway, I'm not even supposed to show."

Scor sighed then shoved a basket full of toilet paper in his arms. "You take the second floor, I'll do the ground floor."

James blocked the exit. "Not till you tell me what happened with Viola. You said something to her and you were both upset, why?"

Scor glared at him. "You wouldn't get it, Potter, now move."

"No. Viola is my friend, now tell me what's going on!"

Scor sighed. "She bid you _adieu."_

"Alright, maybe I don't understand, so explain."

Scor glowered more forcefully, his gray eyes like ice. "The French word '_adieu' _doesn't translate as goodbye or farewell, it doesn't translate to English at all. Literally it means: 'to God' or 'until God.' So when you bid someone '_adieu' _you're telling them 'goodbye... until God.' You're saying, 'I won't see you again until the afterlife."

Understanding washed over James like a bucket of ice water. "Oh, shit."

Scor just nodded.

"But she's- I mean, you told her-"

Scor nodded rapidly. "Yeah, don't mention it to her, it won't help. But I told her that we don't bid '_adieux' _here. We make sure they never happen."

James nodded. "Right. Right well, yeah. But I mean, she's not, she won't-"

Scorpius stiffened. "No. Her condition has no cure but that doesn't mean...what you, and she, think it means."

James felt a weight lift from his heart. "Good. Well, toilet paper, right?"

Scor nodded. "Toilet paper."

After restocking all the WCs on the second floor James still had a few rolls left. He found Scor locking up the supply closet, Rose was next to him.

"Hey James." His cousin greeted. "Came to see what was taking this loser so long. Heard you got the afternoon off. Brill."

James nodded. "Be ready in a mo, Scor, can you open that back up, I've got some leftovers."

As Scor complied Rose's mouth dropped open. "O my MERLIN! You called him by his first name! Are you two mates now?!"

James tried not to feel uncomfortable as he put the toilet paper on the proper shelf. "Um, sure, whatever makes you happy, Rosie."

"James." Scor said softly. "I think this is a turning point in our relationship."

James whirled around to face the younger boy. "What?!"

"She should know. Hell, the whole world should know." He turned to Rose, his eyes were wide as he was motioned broadly with his hands. "Ever since he beat me up in first year...I just feel like, like we've had a connection. Until now I've been too embarrassed to...bare my soul to you, to be...upfront about my feelings."

James gulped and exchanged a look with Rose who looked frightened. Then James noticed the light in Scor's eyes. James had seen that glint before, when Al and Scor had done something stupid and Rose was telling them off for it; the little shit was holding back a laugh!

"Scor, shut up. You're scaring her."

The Slytherin closed his eyes and turned to the older boy, as though he was relishing the sound of James' voice. "Yes, James, say my name again. It sounds so much better when you say it."

"Malfoy, shut it, now!"

Scor opened his eyes and looked at the floor. "I understand, you're right, this won't work out. We- we're too different, our families will never understand. We both have reputations to think of too. I just hope-" at this point Scor reached out to touch James' hand. James flinched and jumped back about a meter.

"Don't touch me!"

Rose shook her head and burst into laughter. Malfoy ignored her and came closer. "Just promise me James, you'll look back on these two weeks fondly. This time together has been..." Scor sniffed "the most... _magical _summer of my whole life."

At this point James shoved the younger boy away from him. "Cut it out, you're sick."

Scor finally cracked a grin. "You believed me though, for, like, a full minute you thought I was coming on to you and you were _completely _freaked out!"

James rolled his eyes. Two could play this game. "Whatever, we both know you've got the hots for Albus anyway."

It was Scor's turn to look scared and little disgusted and Rose howled with laughter.

James nodded and put an over-the-top understanding expression on. "Oh, don't worry, your secret's safe with me until you want to come out."

"What?!"

James winked at him, conspiratorially. "I know what my brother uses the Map for when he borrows it. I know not everyone has the mental capacity to use the Come and Go room so of course you and Al would need the map to... sneak around." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Scor cowered a little, as though James words were attacking him. "You're gross. That- that's- no. _No._"

"You two are barmy!" Rose chuckled.

James just shrugged. "You started it. Now, are we going to the Cauldron or not?"

"Yeah, the floo's-"

James interrupted. "I can just apparate us... if you trust me."

Scor looked a little surprised. "Um, sure, so long as we don't get caught."

James rolled his eyes and took Scor's hand. "We won't be."

Scor looked down at their linked hands, grinned, and then swung their hands back and forth flamboyantly.

"Gah!" James exclaimed, shoving Scor away. "You two can floo, I'll apparate by myself."

James turned on his heel and apparated away, thinking how funny Izzy would find the recent circumstances. It wasn't until he had been at the Cauldron for five minutes and had looked through the crowd of his cousins several times that he remembered, Izzy wasn't there and she wasn't going to be there.

"Hey, mate, you alright?" Fred asked, thrusting a butterbeer into his hands.

James shook himself, forced a smile onto his face. "Yeah, I'm doing just fine."

"What're you thinking about? Not-" Fred lowered his voice. "Not Blondie?"

"Naw." James lied. "Just- this girl at the clinic, Viola, she's really sweet, maybe Lily's age. There aren't lots of kids her age around there and she's too sick to go back to _Beauxbatons, _she's French, see. Had to say bye to her today, a bit worried about her that's all."

"Ah." Fred nodded. "You can always visit her, bring me along too. She sounds brill."

* * *

Fifth year came, and with it OWLs. James tried to care about his grades, if not for his own sake for his family's. His parents didn't pressure him, exactly, more like they knew he was capable of getting top grades and didn't want bad marks hurting him in the future. What his parents _didn't _get though, was that Professional Quidditch players didn't really need all Os, they needed grueling Quidditch practices whenever possible. And yes, he _knew _that he couldn't always play Quidditch but Quidditch was a big franchise and he didn't doubt he would be able to secure himself a job as a coach, announcer, reporter, trainer, supplier or something of that sort after retirement, like his Mum.

He wrote Izzy at least bi-weekly...she never wrote back. He kept an eye on Fuzz, reminding him go to Healer Chang for his potion and staying up with him in the Hospital Wing over the full moons. He would tell her about the Hogsmeade weekends, telling her to floo to the Three Broomsticks at ten. He'd wait, drinking a butterbeer, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone and when she wouldn't turn up and James would go to the joke shop with Fred to cheer himself up.

December came and James debated about sending her a present, in the end he'd bought her _Quidditch Throughout The Centuries _and sent it with a Christmas card and an invitation to the Clan's Christmas party.

Fuzz arrived at the Christmas party alone, with a platter of fudge. There was a card:

_Happy Christmas to the Clan!_

_I hope you're all well, I'm doing alright and really enjoying my new school and everything here. Unfortunately I had promised to help a friend out today months ago, so I can't make it. I'm sending Damian over with some fudge, though, so hopefully you won't miss me too much!_

_Have a great New Year, Isabelle Miranda Cross_

It was vague at best and elusive at worst but still it lightened James' heart. She wasn't dead and still remembered them and was considerate to send a gift and card - even if it was a group card and gift. That had to mean something, right?

So when the dates for the January Hogsmeade trip were announced he quickly wrote her a letter, thanking her for the fudge and closing with: "3rd Saturday of the month, floo to the Three Broomsticks, I'll wait for you there."

Izzy had had nearly 5 months of 'time to think' and if that wasn't enough, James wasn't sure if she'd ever come to terms with the fact that she belonged in this world, among all things magical, just as much as she did in the other world, among all things muggle.

James entered the Three Broomsticks at ten o'clock sharp, knowing that Izzy couldn't be dragged from her bed before nine on a weekend and took as long as any normal girl to 'get ready.' He ordered a Hot Chocolate, bought a Prophet and sat at a table for two with a good view of the fireplace.

He read the Sports section then the International News section, he polished off his hot chocolate and read about the local happenings. He read the editorial, the headlines, the advice columns and the section describing key events in the muggle world and finally - out of sheer boredom - the gossip page. Whoever this Melodie Dearborn was, she had some bonker ideas about his family, there was no way in hell his Uncle Charlie was having an affair with come muggle Duchess, he was in Brazil. And the idea that Vic was pregnant with sextuplets was absolute Hippogriff shit. It was funny, though, to listen to them yammer about his family as if they were celebrities when all they had done was been born into a family of people who did the right thing.

Fred popped in and asked if he wanted to join him for a trip to the Hog's Head, James politely refused. Noon came and went, and James ordered some fish and chips and a butterbeer. By now he was bored and very grumpy. He had been a fool to wait for her like this, it wasn't as if she had given any indication she would turn up.

James decided to use the loo and head over to the bookstore to lose himself in a large and complicated book of advanced magic. As he left the toilet though, a thought occurred to him. Perhaps Izzy only wanted to come for the afternoon and she was on her way. James decided to resume his post at his small table by the fireplace only to see his spot taken by a redhead in a beret. Probably Molly.

"You took my seat, beautiful." James said clapping the girl on the shoulder.

She turned to look at him, confusion written over her face. It wasn't Molly.

"Oh, er, sorry, I thought you were my cousin." James stammered.

She smiled, red lips parting to reveal perfect white teeth. "That's alright, you're not the first to think I'm a Weasley, nor the last I daresay."

"Right." James ran a hand through his hair. "I'll just-"

She cocked her head to the side. "Who are you waiting for?"

James stopped. "Who says I'm waiting for someone?"

She rolled her eyes, which were a lovely blue-gray. "James, you sit here every Hogsmeade weekend for at least an hour and you've been here all day. Whoever it is, they're probably not showing up."

"So, what, are you a stalker?" James asked a little too harshly.

The redhead didn't seem to notice. "Just observant. Comes from being a Seeker, I suppose. Sit down. If you're going to be pigheaded in waiting for this mysterious person you might as well have company."

James narrowed and looked around the pub. Unfortunately the only open seat near the fireplace was across the way from the annoying redheaded witch. "Fine."

She looked pleased. A little too pleased. His eyes narrowed further. "You don't know Isla McLaggen, do you?"

She smiled and shook her head, her smile really was nice. "Yes, actually, I tutor her. She's a nice enough girl but don't worry I don't have posters of you topless riding your firebolt in my dorm."

James choked on his own spit. "What?!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Not as bad as some posters I've seen of your Dad. I swear, if you're Mum ever saw-"

James decided the topic needed switching. Now. "Are you in my year? I don't recognize you from any classes."

She nodded. "I'm 5th, like you, but I'm in Ravenclaw and I don't think we've shared any classes since 2nd year."

James nodded. "You said you're Seeker, though, and that can't be true. If I know one thing it's my competition and Ravenclaw's seeker is Atkins, a mealy 2nd year."

She smiled mysteriously. "You think I'm going to share team secrets with you?"

James leaned in. "You might with enough persuasion. Hot Chocolate or Butterbeer?"

She shook her head. "You can buy me whatever you like but my lips are sealed."

James ordered a round of Butterbeers anyway, he was thirsty. "You never told me your name."

She raised her eyebrows. "You never asked."

"I'm asking now. Hullo, I'm James Potter, but you already knew that. Have a butterbeer, wise maiden, please tell me your name."

She chuckled and accepted the mug of frothy drink. "Wendy. Wendy Elise Price."

James waved dismissively. "Wendy's enough. So, since you're still claiming to be a Seeker, tell me, do you follow Krum's tactics or are you more of a Weasley-ite?"

Wendy brushed her long reddish-orange hair from her eyes. "While I think Krum's tactics are more effective, I follow your Mum's style. Her patterns work better for the small and quick, and their more custom made for girls anyways."

James spent the rest of the afternoon with Wendy, talking mostly about Quidditch but also comparing classes and whatnot. They were so busy discussing the Statute of Secrecy (which was under review at the Ministry _again_) that Madame Rosmerta had to kick them out. It wasn't until James was drifting off to sleep that he realized Isabelle hadn't shown up again. It took him another five minutes to come to terms with the fact that he wasn't all that disappointed.

James still wrote Isabelle but the urge to tell her something, or convince her to come to Hogsmeade, weakened. He had Quidditch, classes (especially Muggle Studies) and his family and friends to distract him. Fred got a great idea for sneaking into the Slytherin dungeon and short sheeting every bed in the boy's dorm. The next morning a very disgruntled Scor and Al shot them dirty looks while the rest of the male Slytherin population looked annoyed with the world in general.

Then there was Wendy. For one reason or another they kept running into each other and James discovered he liked it. He enjoyed her company, comparing Quidditch strategies or debating things they had discussed in class, like the pros and cons of being an animagus. They both liked running in the morning, and became regular partners.

By late February James decided to ask her out properly. She liked him and he liked her and there was no reason they couldn't go out. By March they were officially official and Isla McLaggen insisted on a new Potions tutor.

OWLs came and went, James felt he did a good job but it didn't really matter. Summer came, and with it, try-outs for the most prestigious Quidditch Camp in the world. James managed to secure himself a spot along with Fred, Al, Scor and Lily (who, at just 13, was the youngest camper ever). They traveled to Bulgaria with James' Mum and for eight grueling weeks trained under legends like Viktor Krum, Oliver Wood, Gwenog Jones, Inigo Fuente and, of course, his Mum.

James spent the remainder of his holiday much the same as the last one, with the major exception of Isabelle. She still hadn't replied to any of his letters and, though he saw Fuzz at least once a week, she never turned up to the Burrow or any of the family functions.

September came and with it, a breakup. Wendy and James just didn't work out; there wasn't a real reason besides, 'I just don't like you all that much.' The breakup was mutual and they were still on speaking terms but James got the feeling Wendy was more upset than he was.

* * *

December of 6th arrived and with it preparations for the Holidays. James didn't know what he wanted to do for the Hols. Sure he missed the small portion of his family that wasn't at Hogwarts, and yes the parties were excellent but... what was the point?

He was mulling over this at breakfast when something caught his eye. It was Molly's Prophet, on the front page was that... no it couldn't be her! Could it?

He grabbed the newspaper from his cousin's hands, spilling pumpkin juice everywhere and causing Molly to huff angrily. "James! This was a new skirt!"

"Sorry, Molly, sorry." James cleaned the mess up with his wand then returned his attention to the Prophet. It _was _her. She looked great.

"James! Hey James, did you see the Prophet?" It was Scor, he was coming towards the Gryffindor table, running over a couple of first years.

"Yeah, man, I saw her." James grinned.

"Who? What's going on?" Fred asked through a mouthful of bacon.

Scor cleared his throat. "Ahem. _**Black's Home for Witches and Children, Wiltshire, England, December 12, 2020. - **__The tune is called __**Clair de Lune, **__French for Moonlight, and it couldn't be more fitting. Twelve-year-old Viola LeClerc, seems to personify moonlight itself as she plays the lyrical piece with such tenderness and passion. One wouldn't ever guess that the French witch is blind, nor confined to her chair. LeClerc is afflicted with... _yeah, this is just a bunch of codswallop about her condition, as if that mattered at all... _**BHWC**_ _held it's annual benefit dinner yesterday evening with many notable witches and wizards in attendance. Among the VIPs were War Heroes Harry and Ginny Potter, War Hero and Civil Rights Activist Hermione Weasley, the Minister of Magic, Quidditch star Lizzie Matthews, Quidditch Legend Gwenog Jones, and today's most popular celebrity couple Theodore and Victoire Lupin. However it is clear that young Ms. LeClerc stole the night with her easy and heart-stopping smile and her simple joy for life. __**BHWC, **__which is a strictly not-for-profit organisation,was founded in 2003 by Astoria Malfoy, her mother-in-law Narcissa Black and Andromeda Black and originally served as a rehab centre for witches dealing with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after the war and victims of Domestic Abuse which skyrocketed after the events of the late nineties. Since then it has expanded to serve and house expecting witches, single mothers and their children, witches fighting addiction, combatting self-harm, struggling with illness, elderly witches in need of assistance or any girl in need of a cuppa, a friendly conversation and a bit of wisdom. It is estimated that the staff of __**BHWC**_ _has aided over two hundred witches and their families find new hope and forge a straight path for themselves. Contact Daphne Greengrass if you wish to donate time or money to this fine establishment so it may continue to be a beam of moonlight in the lives of those living in perpetual night. - __**Kelsey Boot, Daily Prophet**_"

By now a small crowd had gathered around Scor and as he finished Rose breathed a soft sigh. "So you know this Viola?"

Scor nodded. "Yeah, she's been at the Clinic, oh, nearly three years now. James knows her too. Great girl, really funny. Well, if you can speak French, that is. You should come over to meet her over Christmas Hols, I'm sure you'd be great mates."

Rose grimaced and James glanced at Scor who was still grinning at the newspaper. Further research was needed in that area, no doubt about it. Albus was still at the Slytherin table and James tried to catch Fred's eye but he was oblivious.

"That's quite wonderful." A kind voice cut in. "But classes start in fifteen and you're blocking the path."

It was Jenny Rowell, the 5th year Gryffindor Prefect. Scor and Rose moved rejoin their housemates, Rose's expression cold and Scor's confused. Fred on the other hand moved out of Jenny's way so quickly he tripped over the bench and ended up sitting in his younger sister's porridge.

"See you in Potions, Rowell!" He called after the Prefect's swinging hips.

Jenny turned, smiled, and continued on her way. Nope, no need for further research there.

"Just ask her out, mate." James advised, charming Roxy's breakfast off Fred's robes for him.

Fred glared at him. "That's none of your business."

James opened up his mouth but Louis interrupted. "Just do it. It's not like you'll die if she rejects you. Besides, if she was getting some action, she might be more forgiving on her rounds."

Fred made a face. "Like I said, none of your business."

James stood, Jenny had been right, they needed to get going. "Ask her out. There's no reason for her to say no."

"Unless she just doesn't like him." Roxy commented, glaring at Fred, evidently still upset about him sitting in her breakfast.

Fred waved off his sister. "What do you know, Roxy, you're just a third year. Besides, it's not one-sided, I can tell."

Roxy tossed her hair over her shoulder. "If you're so sure, ask her out. Now, I'm off to Music."

"Since when does Hogwarts teach music?" Fred called.

Roxy ignored him and James just shrugged. "I've learned it's best not to try and figure out what the Sundry Six get up to."

The boys entered Charms and sat down. "Sundry Six?" Fred mumbled as class began.

James nodded. "Self named for their... differences. Lily, Roxy, Hugo, Lucy, Fuzz and Daeda. Their worse than us. Speaking of us, we're still on for..."

Fred cut him off with a sharp nod. "Meet me in the Potions dungeon after classes, it's not _quite _complete."

James nodded. "Ask Jenny out by then."

"Or what?"

"Or you're a yellow-livered ferret. And I'll charm it over your head."

Fred sighed. The threat was an old one, but it had a history. It was basically the two cousin's way of saying: quit acting like an ass and just do it.

* * *

James sat at the Potions desk transfiguring buttons into socks, careful to make sure none of them matched. The stench coming from the cauldron next to him only served to further convince him that dropping Potions was the right choice. He was bullocks at the subject anyway which was why he wasn't trusting himself to add the four-leaf clovers and rose petals. _Where _was Fred?

The door banged open and Fred came in, shoulders slumped followed by an annoyed looking Roxy.

"... doesn't make her a heartless bitch, Fred." The 3rd year was saying. "It means she doesn't like you and that's just the way things are sometimes."

"James, tell my little sister to go away." Fred moaned.

"Roxy, get lost and I'll think about taking you off second-string and letting you play in a real game."

Her eyes widened and she raced from the room as fast as her legs would take her.

James chuckled then turned to Fred who was stirring the cauldron morosely. "I take it things didn't go well with Jenny?"

Fred scoffed. "She used the 'you're a really _nice _bloke' line."

James tried to hide his grin. "That's the worst. Though this is all your fault, Rowell's, well, she's not a _slag_, precisely, but, er." James didn't want to call the girl 'easy,' that was rude but the truth of the matter was that she was. "You know how she is. Fred, I'm thoroughly disappointed in you. She'd go out with a troll, if she said no to you _and _used the 'nice bloke' bit you must've done something really stupid. In retrospect I would've been completely in the right to tell you to shut it all those times you felt the need to share your feelings."

Fred bristled. "Let's just get on with the prank. It's not like you could've done any better."

James looked affronted. Did he really think that? "Come off it, Fred, you know I could get any bird I wanted with the flick of a wrist."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Name a girl and I can get her to go out with me."

Fred's eye glinted mischievously. "Any girl?"

"So long as I'm not related to her and I haven't _already _gone out with her."

Fred's grinned widely. "Blondie."

James knit his brow together. Blondie, blondie, who did he know who was blonde? Lots of girls, but who would Fred call 'blondie'? Daisy MacMillan, but she was a first year, that was gross. He wracked his brain, Lindsey Jones was a Hufflepuff in his year but she was seeing Louis...that was wrong so many levels. "Er... who?"

Fred looked shocked. "Blond-ie. Blondie! James, you must take Blondie out on a date."

James gathered the socks into a basket. "That would sound more ominous if I knew who you were talking about."

"James, I'm _talking _about Isabelle Miranda Cross."

Shit. Shitty-shit-shit-shit. "No."

Fred scoffed. "Then you're a yellow-livered ferret and I'll charm it over head."

"No, Fred, I haven't even seen her since Ted and Vic's wedding- that was 16 months ago! How am I supposed to ask her out, anyway? She doesn't even go to Hogwarts!"

Fred shrugged, poured his potion into a large vial and walked towards the door. "Do it over Christma Hols then, but James, you take her out on a date or you're a yellow-livered ferret and I'll charm it over your head."

James stared at the wall. Christmas Hols started in a week. Over Christmas Hols he was going to have to get a girl to go out with him. And not just any girl, Isabelle Miranda Cross.

* * *

**Disclaimer: none of this belongs to me; if it did I'd spend my weekend with my Mom and sister in Italy.**

**THANK YOU alexiroseni for beta-ing, giving me tips on getting the poison ivy off my hands and helping me stay calm when we had to recover the document from cyberspace. **

**Leave a review?**


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Hulloooo my lovely readers. There were some anon reviews I'd like to address. If you don't want to read this, you don't have to. I promise not to rant though.

1. THIS STORY IS NOT RELIGIOUS! Did I really have to say that? I made a couple of cultural refs to religious-y things (heaven, God etc.) but that's it. I have atheist friends who use the phrase 'when God made...' b/c God is also a cultural thing. Is Izzy probably Christian? Yeah, I guess, her Dad and Tasha got married in a Church, but she's not in your face so I don't see why you should care, that's not the point of the story. Does this mean I condone witchcraft and satanic worship in real life? NO! If you want to discuss this further, feel free to PM me, I'm a nice person.

2. I am from the US. I'm not from the UK, Ireland or Australia, nor have I ever been to these places (though I'd like to). I do try to make my slang more British though, so hopefully the confusion on my nationality means I'm doing an ok job.

3. IZZY IS NOT A SUE! She has flaws, lots of them, and she faces consequences for them, all the time and she changes and matures and develops. Hence: not a Sue. The single fact that Louis and Al and James all crush on her (along with that loser so many chapters ago... what did I name him? Something Peacock. Anyway) does not automatically make her a Sue. Cliché? Perhaps, but not a flat heroine who only gets good things in her life no matter how she acts and never actually changes.

Okay, I'm done. Sorry for the wait for this chapter. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 21: Idling in the Roundabout

There's something the tiniest bit intimidating about entering a room that's already occupied by laughing, chatting people. They all already know each other and you're the outsider trying desperately to find a way in.

I stuck my head inside the door. "Hullo, I was told to come here to plan the benefit dinner."

A brown haired boy nodded and motioned to an empty chair at the table he, and four others, were occupying. "That's right, you must be Isabelle. I'm Derek Greene." He held out a hand. I shook it and sat down between a familiar looking Asian boy and a tall curly haired brunette who smiled widely at me.

"That's Mike Scott." The girl said, introducing the Asian boy. "And I'm Anne-Marie Sterling."

An older girl with white-blonde hair waved at me from across the table. "I'm Chrissie Nunley and this is Eva, she's my little sister." The sisters looked almost identical.

"Well, I'm Isabelle Cross and I've never done anything like this before, so just tell me what to do and I'll deliver."

Eva narrowed her eyes slightly. "Then how do we know if you'll actually get stuff done? I mean, no offense, but you could be a slacker."

I shrugged. "I see your point so I guess you'll have to trust me?"

Derek tugged lightly on Eva's ponytail. "It'll be fine. The _most _important thing is ensuring the benefactors actually come and that's _your _job, love. So I'm sure everything will be fine." He talked with a heavy cockney accent I wasn't used to hearing so I couldn't tell if Eva and he had a thing, or if he was just teasing her. Not that it mattered, I was just curious .

Eva flicked Derek's hand away and granted me a half-smile. "How'd you get saddled with helping us out anyway? You're new right?"

I nodded. "Moved here just before term. Headmaster told Dad he wanted some help with this and Dad volunteered me. But, I mean, don't Prefects normally take care of these kind of things?"

Mike sniggered into his hand. "We _are _prefects. All of us, except you that is. Were you prefect your old school?"

I shook my head. Despite never causing any real trouble, being a prankster twho eamed up with the epic sibling duo Max and Sophie, I had never really got on the good side of school administration.

"Well, anyway, we've got a meal to plan." Derek interrupted. He explained the basics of how things would happen, doling out responsibilities as he went. So far, he'd only told me to make myself available to anyone who needed an extra set of hands. "The only thing we're really missing is food. I say we feed them all fish and chips with biscuits and tea afterwards but Headmaster wants something 'posh.' So I'm guessing, a couple courses and stuff and I don't know anything about you, but I know nil about food. So, anyone want to head that?"

I raised my hand hesitantly. "Um, I'm good with food. I mean, I'm better at baking, but I know what I'm doing when it comes to a fancy dinner. It's going to be catered though, right?"

Anne-Marie nodded. "But that's the issue. The place that's been doing it the past few years closed recently. Professor Lindy said she'd help us out, but we need to find a nice place who's willing to cater for free for about 250 people."

I looked at Derek, no had never said he was in charge, but they may as well have. It felt natural to defer to him. "Mind if I help out there?"

"Feel free. Don't hesitate to ask for help though. Anne-Marie knows the area well, so she can probably tell you some places off the top of her head. Girl's better than a directory."

* * *

"So what's your story?" Anne-Marie asked me, pushing the plate away from her.

"My story?" I scrunched my nose. We were at a little catery place called Freema's Food tasting some dishes. The food was good, we just had to get them to give it to us for free.

Anne-Marie took a sip of water. "Sure. Why'd you move to town? What're your interests? What's your family like? Have you any pets? Got friends back home? Do you like everything here?"

"Whoah, whoah, slow down on the interrogation. How'd you like it if I asked you to spill your guts?"

She tossed her mess of curls over her shoulder. "Sure. I'm 16 in January. I live with my parents and I've got two older sisters who're both at Uni. I've got a fish called Poseidon and I want to go to Uni for education and teach little kids to read. I've lived in London all my life and the furthest I've been from home is the shore each summer. I've had this massive crush on the Head Boy since grade school but I've never done anything about it because he's a tosser and always has a girlfriend. So instead I'm marrying Matty Coombes."

I raised an eyebrow. Was this girl serious? "Matty Coombe? The Hollywood celebrity? From _Across the Forests_?"

She nodded. "He's reeeaaally cute, don't you think so? And I love his Southern-American accent."

I rolled my eyes. "You'd have to be blind not to think he's attractive, but you really think you're going to marry him?"

She nodded solemnly. "Yep. Anyway, you're turn. What's your story?"

I sighed, Anne-Marie was a little over-the-top friendly, but I got the feeling she was sincere. I didn't have a chance to say anything before Chef Freema returned and we started to talk about catering for the dinner.

"This was amazing!" I told her when we wrapped everything up. "Thank you so much for accommodating us. I have to run everything by administration but your place is on the top of our list!"

Chef Freema beamed as she showed us out, telling us how her sister-in-law attended LEP and how happy she was to help us out.

Once we were out on the busy street Anne-Marie rounded on me. I held up my hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm a bit young for my grade. I'm not 15 until November. My mum passed when I was nine and Dad just remarried this great girl called Tasha. She works at a hospital in London, that's why we moved. Dad works here too know, he's developing a drug for chronic pain. I've got a twelve-year-old brother but he's at this special boarding school in Scotland, he's really smart. I like football, pranking, baking and I used to have a dog but he died when I was twelve. I wanted a new pet right away but things were tough around that time and then Damian, my brother, had this awful situation with the neighbor's cat and now, no pets."

Anne-Marie looked at me funny and then grabbed my hand and dragged me from the bus stop. "We'll get the next bus, come with me!"

"Why?" I asked, bringing out my phone to text my Dad.

"It's a surprise!" She sung.

She led me down the street to a slightly dumpier area. "Hey. You never mentioned crushes or the future."

I let out a huff of air. "Nope I didn't. That area is...weird, and complicated, and dumb. Besides, I've got plenty of time for that later, when you're not kidnapping me."

"Hey, you're coming of your own free will." Anne-Marie protested. "And here we are."

I eyed the area warily. Squished between a laundromat and an insurance building was a long low building; the sign read "Shelter."

"Yep, I came of my own free will to a concrete joint that looks like it belongs to Jack the Ripper."

Anne-Marie just rolled her eyes and led me inside. "Come on, you'll love it, you'll see."

We entered an off-white lobby that smelled slightly of bleach and had industrial lights that shone a sickly yellow.

Anne-Marie approached the glass window where a heavy-set gray haired woman sat typing on an old computer. She grinned at us and slid us a clipboard. "Annie! So good to see you. You're just in time for outdoors hour. Who's your friend?"

"Isabelle, this is Casey, Casey, Isabelle. So can we just head on back?"

Casey nodded. "It's a good thing you showed up, little Kev's on his own today."

She buzzed us in and Anne-Marie led me through a series of halls to the back of the building to a door that led outside. She grinned at me, "Ready to play? We better leave our bags inside."

We dropped our packs by the door and walked into the sunshine into a fenced in garden area with concrete paths about the size of a small gym. I only had about a second to take this in before I was attacked by a small yapping corgi-mutt.

"Dog Shelter?!" I looked at Anne-Marie, unable to keep a grin off my face.

She nodded. "Yep. Oh look, there's Kevin. Hey Kev!"

Kev was probably 16 or 17 and was tussling with two yellow labs and a boxer. He came over to us and wrapped Anne-Marie in a huge hug.

"Annie! You finally decided to help us out again. I was starting to think you hated this place."

"Naw, you couldn't keep me out of here if you installed one of those electric fences you're Dad's on about. Anyway, I brought a friend." She introduced us and then went to play with a long-haired dachshund.

I looked around. There were about a dozen dogs of varying sizes and breeds running about. Some were playing tug-o-war, others were pissing in the bushes, others were chasing after balls that this automatic machine was throwing.

"You like dogs then?" Kevin asked me, flicking his overly long mousy brown hair from his eyes.

I nodded. "I haven't had a dog since Sammy died though. That was almost three years back now."

He whistled and called over a poodle-mix. "Well, this here is Magnolia, or Mags. She's a real sweetheart, she was abandoned here just last week and shouldn't last long. Once we get her shots up to date that is."

I grabbed a ball and began to play fetch with Mags while Kevin engaged a beagle in a game of tug-o-war. "D'you got any pets, Iz? Do you mind being called Iz, or something else? I'm called Kev, by the way."

I winced. "I hate all nicknames. So nope, just Isabelle. And no we don't have any pets-" I caught myself. "Strike that, we do. We've got owls. Two of them, one for me and my Dad, that's Nike, and then Gideon is my step-mum's. She's... a bit eccentric. Well matched to my Dad though, I guess. The eccentric and the mad-scientist."

Kev smiled, he had a nice smile that reached his pale blue eyes. "And you? Are you eccentric, mad-scientist or something else entirely?"

I shrugged. "Haven't decided yet."

We played in silence for a little while before Kevin glanced at me again "So you're at Lori Elizabeth Prep with Annie. I'm at Richard Tome's. I only help out here on the weekends and after school. It's my parent's place, actually."

"Cool."

Annie came over to us. "You've forgotten the time again. They need to get back inside, play time's over."

Kevin frowned. "I hate sending them back inside. This place is too small. Anyway, help me round them up?"

Anne-Marie and I nodded and using leashes and bits of dog treats we coerced the dogs back inside.

"We don't keep the dogs here long." Kevin explained to me as he showed us out. "We either get them into homes or we send them to bigger and better shelters."

"But you're planning on renovating." Anne-Marie reminded him. "You'll help them out better after the New Year, once you've got the funds."

Kevin shrugged, noncommittally. "There's been talk of renovating since I was in nappies and nothing's changed. Would it be good? Sure. Will it happen? We have to keep our fingers crossed."

Anne-Marie sighed. "Well catch you later, Kev."

"Yeah. It was nice to meet you, Isabelle, feel free to stop by anytime you need a doggie-fix."

"Thanks, it was nice to meet you too."

* * *

One Saturday in early October Anne-Marie and I met up at the library to study together. It was a rainy day and afterwards we decided to stop at the shelter to help entertain the cooped up dogs. We had barely made it out of the rain and through the front door when Kevin hijacked us.

"Excellent! More help." He grabbed us by the shoulders and steered us outside, holding a large red umbrella over our heads and calling over his shoulder "Casey, you hold down the fort, I'm going on foot with Isabelle, Annie and Autumn."

"Kevin, what's going on?" Anne-Marie demanded as thunder cracked above us.

"We've got a runaway, she's not fierce but she _is _hurt and sick. Autumn!"

A twenty-something girl with long blue hair waltzed out of the concrete building, holding leashes, little baggies of sliced meat and two more umbrellas. "I'll take the area by the Post Office. Anne-Marie, you take the Library area. Kev, check by the school and... who are you?" She looked at me.

Kev grabbed two leashes and a bag of treats. "Autumn, Isabelle, Isabelle, Autumn. She'll come with me, my umbrella's biggest. Dad's driving around in the van so give him a ring if you find her. She's a black and white harlequin Great Dane. About two years old, missing her left ear and probably isn't using her back right leg much."

Kev grabbed my hand and we ran behind the shelter and made a sharp turn towards the public elementary school.

"She's only got one ear?!" I demanded as we ran , peeking into corners and alleys for the elusive Great Dane.

"I told you, we rescue. Anyway, she can't have gotten far, especially with that limp and the rain."

We searched and asked around for about fifteen minutes until we peek edinto an alley and I saw her - well, I saw her butt, the rest of her inside someone's rubbish bin.

"Kev, text the others." I whispered before raising my voice slightly, trying to sound soothing. "Hey, there pretty girl. We got some yummy old ham for you."

On hearing my voice she hobbled backwards out of the overturned rubbish bin, she was definitely limping, and looked at me. She really was a pretty girl, despite having spaghetti all over her face and having only one ear. She had one black spot above her left eye and black splotches decorated her back and sides.

I held out a handful of bits of ham. "Here you go pretty lady, come on, c'mere. It's all going to be okay."

She approached me hesitantly, sniffing loudly, "That's it girl, Kev, can you get the leash out?"

He did and was leaning forward to loop it around her bare neck when a car sped through a puddle, splashing all three of us with water.

"God!" Kev exclaimed, he tried to dodge the spray but slipped on the wet pavement and grabbed my arm to balance himself.

"Hey!" I squealed as the ham flew from my hand and onto the ground.

Our stray raced forward and gobbled up the ham as quick as could be then began nosing around for more food.

With our bait gone Kev moved toward her slowly, trying not to scare her away. I kept close to him to stay under the umbrella. "Hey doggie, hey girl." Kev whispered. "There's more of that, better stuff to, if you'll just come with us."

She lifted her nose into the air and began to sniff again, her eyes seemed to lock on something behind me and her tail began to wag excitedly.

I looked over my shoulder. "Crap. Seriously? Who sells sausages in the rain?! Kev, look."

He followed my pointed finger, there was street vendor, an old man selling sausages, in the rain, across the very busy street.

Kev sniffed. "Whoah, that smells really good right about now."

I rolled my eyes, "You're not the only one who thinks so."

We were blocking the dog's path to the vendor, but she was looking at us, as though appraising us and I could tell we fell short. "She's going to make a run." I warned.

"I'll catch her." Kev replied easily, continuing to walk towards her.

"She's not a small dog." I reminded him, he just scoffed.

Our stray recoiled a little and then, as Kevin reached forward to stroke her spaghetti covered head she jerked back even further.

"Hey, girl, hey." Kevin soothed.

She was having none of his sweet talk and danced around his hand for a little before making a break for it, I tried to block her but she dodged around me and, trying to pursue her, I ended up slipping in a puddle and fell on my butt, taking Kevin with me.

I watched her run down the alley and approach the rush-hour traffic. There was no way she'd make it through that, and there was no way she'd give up her dream of hot spiced sausages.

I did the only thing that occured to me. I shouted as loud as I could "PINKERTON STOP!"

To my surprise, she halted. I got to my feet. "Pinkerton, come."

She lowered her head, turned to face me and whimpered. "Come on, Pinkerton, let's go home."

She hobbled forward, once again favoring her left back leg. Kev dashed forward and looped the leash around her then he looked at me. "Pinkerton?"

I shrugged. "It worked didn't it?"

He chuckled and shook his head, sending water spraying everywhere. "Yeah, thanks for helping us out."

"My pleasure. But you better be willing to reimburse me for dry-cleaning. My outfit is completely ruined."

"You dry-clean your jeans and jumpers?"

I nodded solemnly. "Only the best for me, oh look you're Dad's van!"

On the way to the shelter we rode in the back with the Great Dane to keep the van clean. The dog put her head on my lap and I stroked her wet, smelly fur.

"So what're you going to do with her when we get back?"

Kevin pinched his nose. "Give her a bath."

"She's not half as bad a boy's locker room. But I meant long term goals?"

Kev narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I'm not going to ask how you know what the boy's locker room smells like. But as for our friend here, she'll need to heal and house and obedience training too. She'll probably be shipped to a bigger shelter. It'll be better for her."

I frowned and began to pick garbage and spaghetti from her fur. "Do you have to? I love her."

"You've only just met her."

"We have a connection." I insisted, she really was adorable and sweet and playful too. "Keep her around for as long as possible? Please, for me?"

Kev looked at me for a few minuted before sighing. "Fine, I'll talk to Dad about it. But you better visit her a lot, otherwise there's no point."

I nodded. "I'll come twice a day if you want."

"Also, don't charge us for dry-cleaners."

"What?" I faked incredulity.

He shrugged, but I could see the joking glint in his smile. "Don't charge or no deal."

"Fine." I pretended to pout and buried my face in the dog's black and white fur. "You better be on your best behavior Pinkerton, otherwise this mean bloke's gonna say you're too much trouble and send you away."

Pinkerton locked eyes with me and barked once. Yessiree, that dog and I had a connection.

* * *

Christmas hols came, and with it, Damian's arrival home. We lived relatively close to the King's Cross now, but I stayed at home. The shelter was having a bake sale fundraiser and Kevin was over helping me make fudge and biscuits and pies and strudels and anything else delicious we could think of. We were in the middle of rolling balls of snickerdoodle dough in cinnamon-sugar when Damian and Dad arrived home; Damian was still wearing robes.

"Isabelle!" He rushed at me and I quickly wiped my hands on my apron and tossed it aside before hugging him.

"Oh, I've missed you buddy. How was the train ride?"

"Fine. But, I'm starving." He reached to grab a hunk of dough but I slapped his hand away. "Make yourself a sandwich then, if you still remember how. Don't think I don't know that you lot never lift a finger to cook or clean up there."

Damian sighed and walked over to the fridge, I turned back to the dough and saw Kevin standing there, seeming a little out of place.

"Oh, Damian, this is Kevin. I think I wrote you about him. His Dad owns the shelter. Kev, this is Damian."

"Eccentric like your step-mum?" He muttered to me, eyeing my brother's odd fashion choices.

"You've no idea." I muttered back.

"Hey, nice to meet you, Damian." Kev shook Damian's hand. "Your sister's talked a lot about you."

"Call me Fuzz." He replied as he began to make himself a sandwich.

Kev raised an eyebrow. "Mind telling me where the nickname comes from, sounds like it has a good story behind it."

"Yeah, it does." Damian replied taking a large bite. "And yeah, I do mind."

I put my apron back on. "Don't talk with your mouth full, Damian."

He gulped and drained his full glass of milk. "Sorry. What's with all the baking?"

"Bake Sale." Kev replied. "For the shelter, your sister's been a great help."

"Yeah." Damian agreed hesitantly. "So, when is it?"

"All day the day after tomorrow. You should come. You like dogs don't you?"

Damian must've been eating too quickly because he had a cough attack.

"Hey, you alright? Slow down, bud."

"I'm fine." He wheezed when he recovered. "But that's the 22nd. Isabelle, that's the day of the Clan's Christmas Party."

I began to spray the baking sheets with non-stick spray. "Is it?" I tried to keep my tone nonchalant. So I knew that the days conflicted, what was I supposed to do?

"Yes." Damian shot back. "And I know you know because James wrote that letter in the common room when I was sitting right next to him."

I shrugged.

"Hey, James. That's bloke that writes you all the time, right?" Kevin asked.

I whirled around to glare at him. "How do you know about James Potter?"

Kev looked a little scared. "I don't, well, I just saw the stack of letters. The one on your dresser, all that snail mail from the same bloke. I was just curious, is all."

"What were you doing in her room?" Damian demanded, his eyes narrow.

I sighed. "You know what, this conversation just screams of 'none of your business.' Kevin, James is... an old friend. He goes to school with Damian. Damian, what _I _choose to do over _my _Christmas hols is completely up to me."

"The whole clan is going to be there, Isabelle. You can't just skip. You're still a member."

"Wow, this family sounds like the mafia." Kevin tried to joke. It wasn't funny. Damian and I ignored him.

"I'm not talking about this, okay? Let's get back to work, Kevin, in eight minutes the last batch of snickerdoodles will be done and we can call it a day. We'll do the fritters later, okay?"

"Fine." Kevin replied.

We worked in silence punctuated by the sound of Damian eating us out of house and home. What was it with wizards and having insatiable appetites? Or maybe Damian was just going through a growth spurt, he was pretty twerpy for 12 after all.

As we wrapped up the finished items for Kevin to take home I asked about my special friend.

"So how's Pinkerton?"

"Still there. It's no surprise really, she's horrid disobedient and only answers to that stupid-ass name you gave her. And no one wants to adopt a one eared Great Dane called 'Pinkerton.'"

"Haven't the read Steven Kellog? Philistines." I joked.

"Yeah, well, you better hope a good owner comes along soon. We're a no-kill Shelter, but not all the ones we work with are."

"Who's Pinkerton?" Damian asked.

"Her special dog pal at the Shelter. You can come along tomorrow and meet her if you want. She's a sweetheart when Isabelle's around." Kevin answered.

"Is that a good idea?" I looked at my brother, wondering about this for the first time. "Do, well, do dogs like you, Damian?"

He shrugged. "Everyone likes me. Don't see why dogs should be different."

I nodded. "See you tomorrow then Kev."

"Yeah, see you. It was good to meet you Fuzz."

"Nice to meet you too." Damian looked up at me, a grin on his face. "I don't see why you're the only one not on the right page about my name."

I ruffled his hair. "Well, if no one called you Damian, you'd forget your real name and we can't have that."

Damian shrugged and went back to pillaging the cupboards.

"How was term?"

"Great! Professor Brody, Potions Master, he's got me and Hugh on this fast-track, like Advanced Placement, I guess. We're going over Draughts now, in fact, we've got to brew this nine-day potion over break so I'll have to go to floo to Godric's Hollow at least once a day to work with Hugo, since I can't do it here."

Dad entered the kitchen, rubbing his back. "What can't you do here, son? You're trunk's in your room now, by the way."

"Thanks, Dad. And I've got to brew this potion, takes nine days, I'm going to do it at Hugo's, his parents don't mind."

"Who says you can't do it here?" Dad asked, putting a kettle on the stove.

"I do." I replied, taking a box of tea from the cupboard.

Damian rolled his eyes. "See, I know her better than she knows herself. In fact, I'm willing to bet my History of Magic notes that she's using the bake sale to purposely avoid the Clan's Christmas Party, or, more specifically, a certain wizard whose letters are in a stack on her dresser."

"i'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." I replied, taking out a tray of extra (read: broken and unsellable) biscuits from the bake sale and setting them on the table.

Dad looked between the two of us. "Damian, Isabelle doesn't have to do anything she doesn't want to. Isabelle, Fuzz can brew his potion in the guest room's bathroom as long as he cleans up afterwards."

"Yes, Dad." We replied in unhappily, not meeting each other's eyes.

"Great," he clapped his hands together. "Now, after tea, we'll dust off the old CDs, get the decoration boxes out of the attic and Christmas-ify the whole house. Then, when Tasha gets off work we'll get ourselves a tree."

The next day Damian and I made the fritters and brought them to Anne-Marie's house where we were keeping all the goods for the fundraiser. Then the three of us headed over to the shelter.

I didn't consider myself an expert on lycanthropy at all, but I'd have been stupid not to think that the differences in Damian's blood and biology would have no effect on the canine population. As it was there were two reactions, the first being fear. After introducing Damian to Casey we took him back to the see the dogs. There was a lot of frantic barking on his entrance; about half the older dogs coerced some whimpering puppies into a corner and bared their teeth at my little brother, as though daring him to come forward.

The second reaction was total adoration. Some of the braver dogs nipped at his trousers and dropped balls at his feet, begging him to play and jumped up to lick his face. The ringleader of the Fuzz-lovers (as Kevin dubbed them) was none other than Pinkerton herself. She was enamored of him, sniffing his butt and crotch, knocking him over to convince him to wrestle with her and obeying every 'stay,' 'sit,' 'back,' 'heel,' and 'fetch' he commanded, which was more than could be said of anyone - even me.

I woke up earlier than usual the next day and went right to the tent near the shopping center where we were holding the bake sale. Things were going well and around ten o'clock Damian showed up with Tasha.

"Last chance to change your mind." He was dressed in robes again and I could see the outline of his wand in his pocket.

I sighed and looked around at the sale going on around me. "They need me here."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." I could tell he didn't believe me and he was upset, but going would be sending a message to James, and the others, that I was back to stay, and I still wasn't sure if I wanted that.

I thought back to James' last letter, along with the Quidditch book. I had yet to read it, if only because it would tempt me to go see a match. He had given me a gift and, as unsure as I was about where we stood, I wasn't rude.

"Give me a minute." I told him. I walked into the shopping center, bought a card and wrote a note to the whole clan and then walked back to the tent. I took a box of my very own fudge from the tables and handed it to Damian. "Tell them I'm sorry I'm not there."

"Fine, see you tonight." He turned on his heel and stalked off.

I looked at Tasha. "I really am sorry, though." I told her. "I wish things weren't this way, so... difficult."

She nodded. "I know, but you can't pick what life throws at you, you can only pick what you do with it."

"I know." I snapped. Couldn't they tell I was in the process of choosing what do with 'what life threw at me'? "Sorry."

She smiled. "Have a good time with your friends here and buck up, it's Christmas! I'll see you later."

"Bye."

...

Christmas dawned bright and snowy, the kind of morning that said 'to hell with being a responsible teenager!' and makes you race first to your little brothers room and then pounce on your parent's bed shouting "Happy Christmas, Happy Christmas!"

When Damian and I finally managed to drag Dad and Tasha downstairs I nearly fainted at the sight of the tree: on a cushy red pillow, asleep, was Pinkerton.

"PINKERTON!" I think my shouts, mixed with Dad's hard belly laugh, and Damian's cries of joy woke up the whole neighborhood.

Needless to say the remainder of Christmas hols Damian and I spent in the backyard with Pinkerton, showing her off to the neighbors and teaching her football. Maybe that was why Damian's departure left me more cut up than normal, because I wasn't expecting it. Either way, it was bad and I seriously considered going to the January Hogsmeade trip.

* * *

The day of the Hogsmeade visit was cold and I used it as an excuse to remain snuggled in my blankets until about nine when my BO became so strong I couldn't live without a shower. When I went down to the kitchen for breakfast Dad was sitting at the table, reading the Prophet.

"Morning."

"Hey Dad. Where's Tasha?"

"Full moon tonight, she's working all day and night."

"Got it."I made myself toast and and tea and sat across from him. He knew, he always knew when Hogsmeade dates were, and he knew I avoided them and why.

"I think I'll take Pinkerton over to the shelter today. I think she misses her friends."

Dad shot me a knowing look. "I think she misses her friends too."

I inhaled sharply and decided to ignore his preposterous insinuation. "Kevin will be proud to see how much she's improved."

"I think she should realize that no one expects anything from her."

"I think that's a lie." I shot back. "Like telling a five-year-old he can be anything. It's not true, he has limitations, he can't be a dinosaur or an alien, he may not even have the talent and brains to be an astronaut or a novelist."

Dad set his newspaper down. "I'm sorry you believe that."

I stayed quiet.

"Let's spend the day together, me and you. How's that sound?"

"What will we do?"

"Anything you want. We can go to the shelter, or the cinema, or shopping, I'll even take you to Buckingham Palace if you want."

I chuckled. Then a thought hit me. "Can we go... can we go visit Sophie and Max?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Sure. Call them first, to make sure they're not busy."

"Okay." I took a deep breath. "Can, can we go see Mum too?"

"Like I said, anything you want."

I nodded. "Right, I'll call up Sophie... Rachel too. We can bring Pinkerton, right?"

Dad grinned. "Yeah, but you better get going, you've already wasted half the morning."

* * *

James' letters became less frequent after that and I tried to convince myself that it didn't upset me. Every time I picked up my pen to write him back and dropped it without penning a word I knew it was only a matter of time before he wearied of our one-sided friendship-thing. On one hand it bothered me to think that he was probably mad at me, on the other, it was easier to think that he was mad at me than if he had just moved on.

Second semester was easier than the first. I'd made a couple friends through football and with the nice weather Kev, Anne-Marie and I took the dogs outside more. Summer finally came and with it Damian. He was in and out a lot, though, spending time at Hugo's or the Burrow. He always invited me and I always declined. James was at Quidditch Camp anyway and it seemed cruel to me that I would visit when he was gone. Sophie and Max came up and spent a few weeks with us too and we did dorky tourist things in the city, pretending to be American.

Our new house didn't have a shed in the backyard, nor was there much room for one, so Damian spent his full moons alone in St. Mungo's. He swore he was fine with the arrangement but Dad and I still stayed the night up in the lobby, drinking tea and playing rummy. It was odd to be back in a place where everyone was magical but Dad and me. Of course, that's what it was like at home, but Tasha was careful not to use her wand too much there, and Damian was still bound by some regulations for underage magic.

After one of these long nights, the July full moon, Tasha and I went to the Leaky Cauldron for some breakfast while Dad stayed in the hospital as Damian recovered. We passed by Flourish and Blotts on our way back and we stopped by to pick up some parchment, quills and ink.

"Look at that," Tasha pointed to a sign. "They're hiring. Weren't you just complaining last week that you had _no money?_"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure they wouldn't want to hire a muggle, Tasha."

"You don't know that. How much magic would possibly be used in a place like this? You're smart and quick enough to shelf and do inventory by hand."

"Either way, I'd be paid in galleons, not pounds."

Tasha scoffed. "Gringotts is just down the street. This place is close to the Hospital too, I could apparate you here easy. I'm not telling you what to do, I'm just saying think about it."

I did think about it, a lot. I tried out for a couple different jobs in Muggle London but nothing came from it. THe shelter wasn't hiring either so, figuring I had nothing to lose, I sent in my resume to Flourish and Blotts. I got the job.

The owner, Madame Turner, was hesitant to hire me but when I pointed out that she had a history of hiring squibs, she accepted. I worked half day six days a week on minimum wage, which was pretty good for a 15 year old. After every payday I would take the equivalent of a wizarding check and transfer it into pounds on my way home.

I had to admit it was fun working there, every type of wizard, witch, warlock or hag in the UK came through Diagon Alley and most all of them stopped by to pick up writing supplies or books.

The only difficult part was that the clan was huge. Barely a week went by that Molly or Scor or Uncle Bill or Aunt Ginny or Kreacher stopped by to pick up something. And every time I made certain I was busy in the back, or Blaire - the witch I worked with - was at the counter. It wasn't that I was afraid of them seeing me, it was just that I didn't know what to say anymore. What do you say to someone who you spent a whole summer with and then decided to kick yourself out of their lives? I hadn't exactly been nice to them, and, though I knew they would at the least be polite, it would be awkward and I just wanted to avoid that.

Summer ended and Damian left for Hogwarts again. I wasn't as disappointed this time by his leaving, but then again I now had a semi-solid group of friends here plus a job to keep me busy since Madame Turner was keeping me on through term for the weekends.

Spending most of my weekends in the wizarding world was... eye-opening, to say the least. I always wore muggle clothes, but I found that many witches and wizards did too, or at least more muggle-like styles. The conversations I overheard were fascinating; from discussions about the Statute of Secrecy to swapping housekeeping spells to arguments about the infamous 'Preventive Laws' which were instituted in the wake of the Great War. Sometimes customers would try and strike up a conversation about something purely magical and I'd have to admit ignorance. Tired of looking like a dolt, I took to reading the Prophet more often, ignoring the gossip sections as they often centered around James' family. I also read read up on wizarding history and the basics of magical theory.

The more I learned the more I wanted to learn. It was all so fascinating and, well, magical. Blaire and Madame Turner helped too, answering any questions I had without judging. The reality of the wizarding world hit me again, confirming what I already knew, but liked to forget: it wasn't just pointing a stick and saying funny words, it was it's own world with it's own problems, culture, history, politics and future. And I loved it, I loved all of it, it was fascinating and brilliant and it was filled with amazing people that barely 23 years ago went through a brutal war and who were still healing and figuring themselves out and they were much closer because of that.

Every time James' owl showed up at my bedroom window I'd get excited, he treated me like nothing had changed, telling me about Quidditch and Muggle Studies and pranks. In mid-December, shortly before break, he sent me a letter telling about his plans to make everyone's hands glow green and red for a day. Fred was making the potion and James was transfiguring socks to bribe the house-elves with, so they could spike everyone's morning pumpkin juice.

It was then that I realized I was _jealous _of him. And not just because he had a group of mates he could do pranks with (Anne-Marie and Kev were more rule abiding so pranks for me had become few and far between) but because he hadn't done anything wrong. He could just write me and be a good friend and everything but I couldn't do the same. Because I had to apologize for ignoring him for so long. And that couldn't be done through a letter.

Still stewing about this I went to fold my laundry when I found Tasha ironing Dad's shirts in front of the dryer.

"Hey there. Need me to move?" She asked.

"Just a bit, I want to get my clothes out of there." She complied and I was about to take my basket to my room when I decided to fold it in the laundry room.

"Tasha, can I ask you something?"

"Anything. As long as it's not English homework."

I chuckled, humanities was definitely a subject area my family was lacking in. "No, not homework. Tasha, is it weird for you, to be married to a muggle?"

She smiled as she slowly waved her wand over Dad's dress shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. "It was odd at first, yes. I never thought about marrying a muggle before your Dad, that's for sure. And it is difficult, feeling like I'm lying to my in-laws when I say I'm a Doctor. But we make it work."

"And Dad?" I asked.

"Does your Dad think it's weird to be married to a witch? I don't think so. You know him, if he was any more curious he'd have investigated a Nuclear plant by now and be dead. I'm his link, a link to a whole different perspective on the world around us and the way it works and why. I'm his link to a world his son, for one reason or another, is a forever a part of, but that he will never fully share. And, at the end of the day, he's just a boy and I'm just a girl and we love each other. Sorry, if that's too mushy for you."

"No, no. I'd rather have mushy parents than parents who hated each other. So, it's complicated, but actually really simple? Is that what you're saying?"

She nodded. "Deep down, it's _really _simple. But the way we live it out, it can get complicated and I can't say we don't argue and disagree about it. But, if it wasn't this hardship, it would be another. No one's life is simple. And you have to admit, this complication is pretty cool." She waved her wand and conjured up a multi-colored rose.

"I think... I think I like your world." I found myself saying. "I like working at Flourish and Blotts and, even if I stop working there and, I don't know, start selling Vogue magazines in the Shopping Center, I think I'd still go to Diagon Alley every week. Just to... see everything."

"Well, no one's stopping you." Tasha answered. "You're brother's a wizard, and your step-mum's a witch. You have every right to this world as anyone else."

I took my now folded pile of clothes towards the stairs. "Thanks Tasha. You've really helped."

"Any time, Isabelle. Oh, by the way, Fuzz comes back on Friday and that evening I have to be in Madrid for a conference. Your Dad and I were wondering if you two would be alright on your own until Saturday night around dinner time?"

I grinned, "That sounds great!"

...

Leaving Damian and I home alone on a Friday probably wasn't the best call on my parent's part. We didn't do anything wrong but we did make use of the time to buy Christmas presents for the two of them. Then we went to the cinema and ate far too many chips and chocolate bars. When we got home I decided to cream my brother at Mario Kart, he hadn't played in at least 6 months so I was sure I had it in the bag. Unfortunately the quidditch he played with his friends had increased his reaction time; we were evenly matched and ended up racing each other long into the night.

I awoke the next morning to Pinkerton barking loudly. I looked at the clock, seven am, too early to be awake. True, I had to be into work by nine but I'd be damned if I wasn't going to cling to sleep until at least quarter to eight.

"Pinkerton, quiet!" I shouted as I rolled over. She obeyed and then I heard a ringing noise. It was the doorbell for the Apparition room.

I groaned and rolled out of bed. "Coming." I pulled one of Dad's old Uni shirts over my cami and knickers to ward off the chill. Granted it barely covered my bum, but it was probably only Tasha coming to get something Dad forgot.

I turned the lock and opened the door, rubbing sleep from my eyes. "Don't tell me, Dad forgot an extra set of pants or something like that."

"Hey Izzy, nice jumper."

It wasn't Tasha.

* * *

A/N: MWAHAHAHA! I am sooo evil! Anyway, leave a review. But (if you have an account) please sign in to do so. Anything else hurts my feelings because it makes _me_ think that **_you_ **think that I'm this awful person who's going to PM you a hateful crude message ranting about how much I hate you. I'm a nice person, I truly am and I respect every opinion about my work (even if it's wrong).

Another reminder that I own nothing here except the OCs


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Hey all, did I mention the events of chapter 19 were... unexpected? Basically, I figured out Isabelle was going to ditch James as I was writing it and adjustments to the plot had to be made. As such, at the end of last chapter a Christmas party at Izzy's was mentioned, but that's not happening anymore. I have changed that, but you don't have to go back and read it if you don't want to, everything else is the same. Mr. Cross and Tasha are still in Spain, a mysterious figure in the apparition room is admiring the view of Izzy dressed just in knickers and an oversized jumper and James still has to take Izzy out in order to fulfill Fred's dare.

Best wishes, Gwen

* * *

Chapter 22: What's Past is Past

BAM! The door from the Apparition Room into the Cross' house slammed shut and James stared blankly at the inside of the door. He could've kicked himself. _Stupid, stupid, arse-hole! _He mentally berated himself. _Nice jumper?! Really, Potter?! __**Well, the jumper was rather nice. **_His mind replied smugly. _Shut up! _He thought forcefully at himself. He screwed up his eyes and tried to erase the image of turquoise-blue knickers peeking out from under the hem of her jumper and cleared his throat.

"Uh, Isabelle?"

"Yes." She squeaked from the other side of the door, sounding extremely flustered. "No. Hi, James, come in. But not yet!" She paused and then spoke again, this time sounding far calmer. "I'm going to take a shower. I'll be right back. Er, make yourself at home."

The door opened a crack and James heard a series of loud thumps that told him Izzy was racing up the steps as fast as she could.

He hesitantly opened the door a bit wider and , seeing no one around, stepped into the hall. The house was larger than their old one. He was kitty-corner to the glass front door which looked out on a busy street. Down the hall he could see into a sitting room and in front of him, past the staircase, he could see into the dining room which obviously wasn't used much as the table was covered with laundry waiting to be folded or put away.

"James?"

James looked up, Fuzz was standing at the top of the stairs, looking incredulous. "Hey, Fuzz."

"Bloody hell, I thought my sister had gone round the bend. "

"I heard that!" A voice called from another room. "Damian wash your mouth and give our guest breakfast. I'm sure he's hungry."

Fuzz rolled his eyes in the direction of his sister's voice then glared at him."What in the name of all things magic are you doing here?"

James winced. "Complicated."

"So..." Fuzz came down the steps and walked towards the dining room. "Are you going to explain or just stand in my front hall like a nitwit?"

James moved to follow him when he felt something press against his bum. "Hey, what?" He turned and found himself nearly face to face with a dog. "Oh, hullo."

"Oh, yeah." Fuzz walked over. "James, Pinkerton, Pinkerton, James. Pinkerton, sit."

The dog was large, with only one ear and was white with black spots. She sat obediently.

"Now shake, Pinkerton." Fuzz commanded.

Pinkerton lifted a paw and James pumped it up and down. "Nice to meet you, Pinkerton."

Once he let go of the dog's paw, she stood and tried to sniff his bum again.

"Pinkerton!" Fuzz reprimanded, pulling her away, "Stop flirting, come on let's get some food."

James followed Fuzz through the laundry room-dining room and into a rather large kitchen and leaned against the counter.

"Looks like we've got scones from Izzy, fritters too, eggs, bacon, porridge, toast, tea, orange juice, pumpkin juice. Hm, Tasha must have just gone shopping, we never have this much food."

"What are fritters?" James asked, curious.

Fuzz dumped some kibbles into a dish on the floor which Pinkerton began eating hungrily. "These pastry-knot-thingies Isabelle makes with apples and sugary glaze. Like donuts on steroids."

"Sounds yummy. Here, I'll make the tea." James filled the kettle, set it on the stove and wiggled the knobs until he was sure it was being heated.

"Nice." Fuzz sounded impressed as he heated a frying pan for bacon.

"I _do _take Muggle Studies. I know how to boil water."

The two boys managed to reheat the scones, fritters and make a rather large platter of bacon and eggs before Isabelle entered the kitchen.

"Took you long enough." Fuzz snorted. "Usually you only take a few minutes in the shower, what's got into you?"

Izzy ignored her younger brother and kept her eyes fixed on James. "Hey." She said.

"Hey." James paused, not really knowing how to make a comeback from 'nice jumper.' He held a plate under her nose. "Scone?"

She smiled, took the scone and sat down. "Sit down you two, you get gas if you eat standing up."

Damian brought three mugs to the table and poured them all tea. "You know one day I'm going to test that theory and prove you and all your foremothers wrong."

Again, Izzy ignored Fuzz. "So, no glasses James?"

Out of habit James' hands went to the bridge of his nose, as though to push his glasses up. "Nope, got rid of those in September."

"Make playing Quidditch easier?" She asked.

James shrugged. "I guess so, mostly I'm not recognized as easily."

Izzy snickered. "Whatever, you've still got the trademark doofy Potter hair."

James shook his head. If she wanted to think his hair was doofy, he'd let her. Hers, on the other hand, was far longer than it had been last summer. She had plaited her shiny blonde hair into a braid that wrapped around her head before trailing down her left side all the way down to her waist. Other than that, she looked much the same, except older and, well... curvier.

"Anyway, I'm sorry you dropped in on us like this." She continued.

James was shocked. He'd hoped she'd at least give him a c_hance. _"Oh. Right, no, _I'm _sorry, Izzy, I'll just..." He stood to leave but she grabbed his arm.

"No, that came out wrong. It's just, I have to be at work soon."

"Oh." James sat again.

She looked apologetic. "Yeah, so I'm not going to be around. I'd call in sick but it's the holiday rush and-"

"No worries." James ran a hand through his hair. Yeah, coming here with no plan was certainly working out lovely. "When do you get off?"

She squirmed in her seat. "Well, four, but then Damian and I have to clean the house. Otherwise, it's doubtful we'll get to go to the Burrow tomorrow."

James' eyes nearly popped out of his head. "You're coming to the Burrow?!"

She bit her lip. "I was going to. You _did _invite me, and I saw Aunt Audrey the other day and she said I was welcome, but if you think it's a bad idea..."

James decided the best course of action was to sit on his hands. He didn't think Izzy would appreciate him flinging himself at her for a hug. "No! I mean, yes! I mean, come to the Burrow it's a lovely idea. I want you there."

She grinned. "Great, I really have a lot to do though, so , I'll see you then?"

James narrowed his eyes and glanced around the house. It _was _in need of a thorough cleaning. Dirty dishes were stacked in sink, the floor needed sweeping, there was that table of laundry in the dining room and when James leaned back in his chair he could see into the sitting room and saw it was rather messy too.

He let out a low whistle. "Wow, Izzy, it's not like you to run a messy ship."

"Hey! Most of this isn't my mess. Besides, I think I recall someone saying something about not treating everything as if it's solely my responsibility. I think that includes easing up on the housekeeping."

James rubbed his chin, mock-thinking. "Hm, now I wonder who said that? Must've been a really smart bloke."

She nodded solemnly. "Good-looking too, well, for his age. One of my idols."

James couldn't help but smirk. "Oh yeah?"

"Yep, my Dad's great isn't he?"

James sputtered, nearly choking on his tea. "What?!"

She laughed as she polished of the rest of the bacon. "Right, I've got to go. See you, Jamie." She stood and seemed to remember Fuzz's presence for the first time, reminding James that the third year had been watching the whole interchange. "Bye Damian."

Suddenly James had an idea and he followed her into the sitting room. "Hey, Izzy. You get off at four?"

"That's right."

"Well I'll stick around here with Fuzz, we'll get your house in tip-top shape and then, I don't know, want to go out for fish and chips or something?"

She smiled but shook her head. "James, I can't let you clean my house."

"Aw, come on. It'll be easy!" He let his wand slip from his sleeve into his hand. "I do household charms really well."

Izzy glanced at his wand and a look of uneasiness flickered across her face. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Mum and Dad are both rubbish at those kind of spells so I got Grandmum Weasley and Aunt Audrey to show me back in first year. And I swear I don't mind. As long as you go out with me."

This time she flinched obviously. "You know _Magic Bread _that new bakery in Diagon Alley?" James nodded. "Meet me there a little after four. For a coffee. Between _friends._ Got it?"

James _did _get it. Fulfilling The Dare was going to be a lot harder than he thought it was going to be. But either way, Izzy was talking to him, and if that wasn't progress he didn't know what was.

She looked like she wanted to say something else but stopped herself, grabbed her purse and walked over to the fireplace. James watched in unadulterated shock as she grabbed a pinch of floo powder, stepped into the fireplace and released the acid green dust stating, "Diagon Alley" as clear as a bell.

Anger bleeding through amazement, he stormed into the kitchen. "She never floos!"

Damian looked up from the latest issue of _Magical Maladies and Medicines Quarterly. _"She floos to and from work whenever Tasha can't apparate her."

"She lets Tasha apparate her?!"

Damian nodded. "For work, yeah."

James ran a hand through his hair. This was too much, _she _was too much. James struggled to figure out if he was frustrated or hurt or ecstatic or annoyed or just plain confused. "Where does she work?"

Damian flicked his wand and sent the dirty dishes into the sink. "Not telling, you'd just bother her while she's busy and cock it all up."

James fixed his fiercest glance at the lycanthrope but he only gestured zipping his mouth shut.

"Ask Isabelle yourself, on your date."

"It's not a date." James snapped.

Fuzz tapped his nose conspiratorially. "Ah, but you'd like it to be."

James shut his eyes tight. He wasn't sure _what _he wanted, but he certainly didn't want anyone knowing about The Dare but he and Fred. Fuzz seemed a little too keen on figuring out what was happening between him and his sister. Not there was anything _real _going on between them, mind, but if Fuzz found out Lily would find out and she was the biggest gossip in the family. If _anyone _found out he was taking a friend out on date for a dare because he had arrogantly claimed he could get any bird he'd never hear the end of it.

"Let's just, get the house clean."

"Yes, sir."

It didn't take long to get the house presentable once James showed Fuzz the basic cleaning spells. THey attacked the dishes first and then split up, James wiping down every surface in the kitchen while Fuzz folded and put away the laundry. They then tidied up the sitting room, the telly room, and the dining room. James was about to suggest heading to Diagon Alley early and maybe get in some Christmas shopping when Fuzz took a long sheet of parchment from his robe pocket.

He squinted at the paper, concentrating. "Okey-dokey, we've got the basics done. Now we need to deep clean the WCs which includes scrubbing the sinks, tubs, shower walls and toilets. Basically every surface needs dusting, but we can't forget the corners where the cobwebs always pop-up. Why don't you do that, James? I'll do the WCs."

James nodded blankly, conjured a rag for himself and began dusting. It took him longer than he thought it would, there were cabinets and shelves and bookcases and electronics and picture frames and tables and lamps and right when he thought he was done he noticed another cobweb.

After couple of hours washing windows, polishing wood, arranging bookcases and casting pest-banishing charms Fuzz's list of chores was nearly complete.

"Hey James?" Fuzz asked, glaring at the list.

"Yeah?"

"What's a skirting board?"

"A what?" James muttered one last incantation at the window, ensuring it was thoroughly insulated and looked over Fuzz's shoulder. The final bullet mark on the list read: _Don't forget to dust the skirting boards._

James shrugged. Even with the magic James was sick of cleaning and was in the mood for a short kip and a long broom ride. "It's probably fine, I dusted everything."

Fuzz shook his head. "No, Tasha was very specific. If the list is incomplete I don't get to go to the Burrow... and neither does my sister."

James rolled his eyes and looked at it again. "I don't know, does she mean floorboards?"

"No, everything's carpeted anyway."

"What about that trim-y thing around the doors and windows?"

Fuzz nodded and returned the list to his pocket. "Yeah, that's probably it!"

He conjured a rag and began to dust the window sills and door lintels, James helped and when they were done Fuzz examined the list again. "Agrippa's sake! Tasha had this charmed to cross off the stuff we've done itself and the only thing still here is dusting the bleeding skirting boards."

James glared at the offensive bullet point. "Do you have a dictionary? We could look it up there."

"Good idea, there should be one in Dad's office." He walked over to the door and was about to turn the handle when he noticed a sign on the door: _NO ENTRY - IMPORTANT AND DELICATE WORK TAKING PLACE INSIDE. _"Okay, that's no good. Aaand the computer's in there so we can't find it on the internet."

James ran a hand through his hair. "Um, ask the neighbors?"

Fuzz threw him a look. "Yeah, why don't you just go next door and ask Mr. O'Sullivan what a skirting board is, though, try not to sound off your wand, he already thinks we're nutters."

"Okay, fine..."

They stood in silence for a bit before Fuzz snapped his fingers and exclaimed, "Got it!"

"What?"

Damian went up the stairs two at a time. "Follow me."

James obeyed, only stopping on the threshold of a bright room with pale blue walls, curtains and carpeting. In the center was a large white four poster bed covered with a bright yellow quilt and beside it was a matching white bedside table. The bookcase, also white, was stuffed with books from _100 ways to serve bacon _to _Magick in Englande _to _Female Football Stars _to _Calculus I. _The walls were decorated with photos of the Cross family, both pre- and post the wedding two summers ago. There were also photos of the Weasley-Potter clan that James was sure were charmed to not move and photos of Max, Sophie, Pinkerton and a few other people and dogs he didn't recognize. This was Isabelle's bedroom, James was sure of it.

"Come on!" Fuzz insisted, taking a seat at his sister's white oval desk and opening a thin black laptop. "She thinks I don't know her password so don't you dare tell her."

James leaned against the door jam and raised an eyebrow skeptically. "She'll have something on skirting boards in there?"

He tapped several keys and replied absently."Online dictionary. You can come in if you want. She lets just about everyone in here. Max, Sophie, Kevin, that Peter bloke, Anne-Marie. She's not picky."

"I'm fine."

Fuzz's eyes scanned the screen. "Course Kev's dating her. Or did. Or wants too. Or maybe that was Peter. Or both of them."

"Skirting board." James prompted.

"Yeah, yeah. Here we go: a piece of wood fixed along the bottom of a wall where it meets the floor. Okay, still not getting it. I'll look up a photo."

"You can do that?" James moved to get a closer look at the laptop but stopped himself, still unwilling to enter Izzy's room without her express permission.

"Yeah... here we go! OH! It's that little decorative edging at the bottom of a wall." He tapped a few more buttons then closed the laptop and got on his hands and knees, staring at the skirting board. "Funny, I never thought about these things before or whether they needed dusting or not. Huh, now I suppose I won't stop noticing them."

"Alright then," James conjured another rag. "Let's get going."

As he turned to leave something bright red caught his eye. Squashing down his qualms about invading Izzy's space he looked closer. Right by his elbow, on her dresser, in a perfect stack were several dozen letters, bright red wax seals, all broken. Upon closer inspection, James beamed, realizing that they were _his. _Those were _his _letters. _His _letters were on _her _dresser looking very much opened and very much read. A tingly feeling erupted in his stomach, like the slight wooziness that came from a sharp dive on a broomstick.

Fuzz passed him as he left the room. "Coming?"

James didn't bother hiding his grin, "Yeah, let's finish that list."

Fuzz and he spent the next half hour on their hands and knees scouring the skirting boards in every room on the first floor after discovering that the scourgify charm didn't do a good enough job. When they were finally done James was surprised to find he was covered in a light sheen of sweat. He flopped next onto the couch beside Fuzz.

"Damn, how often does Tasha make you do all that?"

"Deep cleaning? Every Saturday. Of course, normally she and Dad are around to help out."

"Yeah, where are they?"

"Spain, Tasha had this conference or something. They'll be back by dinner. Speaking of, want to grab a bite to eat? I'm starving."

James chuckled and followed Damian into the kitchen. He may have been scrawny for a third year, but Fuzz could probably eat a butcher's shop a day and still be able to pack away half of honeydukes.

After eating they messed around with Tasha's wireless and the telly, looking for either a Quidditch game or footie match. As it happened, they found both and were able to watch one while simultaneously listening to the other. At around three Fuzz suggested they head to Diagon Alley, saying he needed to restock his potions kit.

"It's nothing illegal, don't worry, James. Just some more... unusual stuff. Anyway, I don't want to ruffle any feathers with Dad or Tasha or even Isabelle, so it's just easier if I buy them on my own."

James nudged the dog's sleeping form with his toe. "What about Pinkerton?"

Fuzz rubbed his chin. "Ah, well, could you apparate her?"

James stared at him.

"Oh, come on, it's not like a one-eared black and white Great Dane is the strangest thing to walk through Diagon Alley!"

James sighed. "You'll be flooing?"

"Yeah, meet me at the Apothecary's next to Madame Malkin's, yeah?"

James obeyed and after handing over a disgruntled Pinkerton to an elated Fuzz, he set off for the Quidditch shop. James still needed a gift for Lily and knew that if it came from the Quidditch shop, she'd be happy. Unfortunately Lily already owned more gear than he did and it took some time for him to find something she'd find useful and that wouldn't "interfere with her karma." He finally decided on a tracking bludger to aide her dodging capabilities. The bludger would follow her, attempt to knock her off her broom and then fly away only to return again a few moments later, there was, however, a safety that would render the ball frozen should she need it.

After asking it to be shipped to Godric's Hollow later James began to make his way toward the bakery, trying, and failing, to keep an overenthusiastic spring from his step. He stepped into the bakery, making the bell on the door jingle loudly, and saw that Izzy was already there, talking to the young wizard behind the counter.

James glanced at the clock, it was just a few minutes past four. He came up behind her and tugged on her braid. "Hullo, you, thought you'd take longer getting here."

She turned and smiled at me, "Hullo, hope you don't mind I ordered us some pastries and hot chocolate."

"No that's fine."

"Alright, then, why don't you find us a table."

James looked around, there were a few tables scattered here and there, besides himself and Izzy there was just an elderly couple holding hands and a Mum with two small children and laden with shopping bags. James chose and table for two near the rear of the bakery and waited for Izzy. She chatted with the wizard at the counter for a little before taking their tray and joining him. There were two large hot chocolates topped with whipped cream and a plate of cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties.

"So." James said. "How are you?"

She smiled at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. She was upset about something, he could tell. "Good, fine. I'm- I'm sorry." She added so softly he almost didn't hear it.

"You're sorry?"

She bit her lip, nodded then took a deep breath through her nose, as if to compose herself. "I am sorry, Jamie. I've been a horrible friend."

James opened his mouth to tell her it could lie in the past, if she wanted, that he forgave her. But she glared at him so he shut his mouth with a clack.

"Don't you _dare _interrupt me. I have to say this, okay, and you're going to listen! All you've done is write me like nothing happened and kept in touch and reminded me that I was always welcome in Hogsmeade or at the Burrow. Meanwhile I didn't even bother to spare you a note telling you I was alive. I made excuses that I needed to apologize in person, or that you didn't want to see me anymore, which was ridiculous, or that I was too busy, or that you were too busy. And that I worked on Saturdays, so that kept me from Hogsmeade but I could have easily made it for a little bit or taken a day off.

"I let myself believe it was all so complicated and worried if I could still be part of this world twenty years from now. And what if I have a muggle husband and muggle kids and how could I keep all this a secret? Because it's freaking fantastic! And how could I be best mates with a wizard if I turned my back on the wizarding world. And through it all what about Dad and Tasha and Damian? I certainly couldn't run away from them, but at the same time they're guaranteed a spot in your world but I'm not and honestly that makes me really mad. The whole statute of secrecy thing is bull anyway, and I get why it's there but it would b so much better if we all just got along, though I guess that's impossible but is it, really?

"And anyway, back to the point, what about Mum? What would she have thought about all this? I'm at the point where I don't even know _what _she would tell me anymore because the kind of stuff you tell a nine year old isn't what you tell a sixteen year old. And you're just there, you perfect prat, and gosh, I missed you, even though I read all your letters. And really, it's not all that bad because - and I really should have learned this a long time ago - the most important thing are the people you care about. And, really, I don't care bout what anyone - even your ministry - tells me. You're my mate and I'm going to surround myself with the people and things that make me feel full inside and help me be a better person. And that's you and Molly and Louis and Fred and Scor and Rose and all the magic stuff, even though I can't use much of it, I still like to be around it and it makes me happy so that's what's important. And gosh, I'm rambling now aren't I?"

James merely nodded and forced himself not to smile.

She took a deep breath and looked at her hands, realizing that she had been tearing a pumpkin pasty into little bits and smashing them into the table as she talked in circles. If James had learned one thing about girls in his almost seventeen years it was that, sometimes, they just needed someone to listen to them talk or shout or cry or breathe. He was happy to do so for Izzy.

She met his eyes. "So, in conclusion, I was a horrid mate and I'm sorry. If you don't mind, I'd like to have a second chance."

He grinned at her now. "I _did _tell you I'd wait for you to get your head out of your arse."

A small amused smile graced her mouth. "Did you use those words exactly? I can't remember."

"Oh, yeah, for sure."

"You had a foul mouth for a little boy."

"Not as bad as Fuzz's mouth sometimes." James told her.

She sighed heavily. "I know, it's his age. Everyone hates year eight and normally its because at thirteen/fourteen, boys are complete prats. Hopefully he'll get over it. If he's got good role models." She raised her eyebrows purposefully.

He tried not to choke on his hot chocolate. "Hey, I am a great role model."

"Uh-huh. How many detentions have you gotten this term?"

"Only two, you know that. Anyway, what have you been up to these past months?"

"A lot. Lord, I don't know where to start, what do you want to know?"

"Well, you've got a job. Where do you work?"

She looked at her lap. "Flourish and Blotts."

James blinked, then demanded. "For how long?"

"Since summer. I couldn't find a job in muggle London and by that point I was pretty set on... making amends."

James counted to ten silently in his head. She had been stupid, but she realized that and was sorry. Besides, he had forgiven her, that meant he agreed to let it lie in the past where it belonged. "Great, so how's that working out for you?"

"Pretty well. The witch I have most my shifts with, Blaire, is really nice. She didn't go to Hogwarts, but this small school in the south . She answers any questions I have about how magic works, or the way your ministry is set up or stuff from your history. And of course, this place is just a block away so I come here for my breaks or after work. Chance is friendly too, keeps me up to date on Quidditch scores and gives me the biscuits and things that didn't turn out just right for free."

"Chance?" James inquired, keeping his tone neutral.

"Yeah, the bloke at the counter."

James looked over his shoulder at the slightly familiar wizard. He thought back, this Chance character had definitely attended Hogwarts and graduated, or dropped out – that was always an option – a couple years ago, other than that, he didn't know a thing about him.

"How's school? Did you settle into that new place alright? What was it called, Elizabeth something…"

"Lori-Elizabeth Prep and yes, I settled in quite nicely. I'm defense on the girl's footie team and we're second in our region, so that's good. My friend Anne-Marie is really fun, we help out at the dog shelter Pinkerton came from a lot. Only drawback is she's not really into pranks, it doesn't help that she's a prefect. So the last time I actually pranked anyone was over the summer when I spent a few weeks with Max and Sophie and everyone back there. And even then it was just simple stuff: prank-calls, convincing the neighbor he had a secret admirer and then leaving a toad at their 'meeting point.'"

James chuckled, "That's actually pretty funny. Who was the victim?"

"Oh, you met him, that Nigel Peacock loser from the football match. And speaking of pranks, how did your last one go. Last you wrote, you and Fred were just in the planning stages."

"Oh it was brilliant, it looked like Christmas everywhere for a good three days before Healer Chang was able to get the antidote to everyone. And it was untraceable because the House Elves are all very accommodating to my family what with Aunt Hermione championing their rights."

"Tell me more about that Quidditch camp. You letter just before you went was beyond enthusiastic, bordering on an almost religious devotion to the Camp. Then, youre later letters were, 'it was good.' What happened there?"

James shuffled his feet awkwardly. "It was good. Grueling and brilliant and enlightening and extremely helpful. I'm a much better chaser and Captain now than I was previously."

"But..."

"It was a bit of an eye-opener. I'd always planned on going professional after Hogwarts. I'm good enough to make practice squads at least, and that would give me wiggle room before I had to find a career to do after retirement. Also, being, you know, me, people kind of expect you to do something like that. But, I don't know, I don't really think I want to go that route anymore."

"Why not?"

James was surprised. Her question wasn't accusatory or disappointed or even confused, it was genuinely curious. She wanted to know why _he _had changed his mind; not why he had _changed his mind. _"I love Quidditch, I do. But professional level, I think it would take the fun out of it."

She nodded. "Makes sense."

"Yeah, but what now?!" James asked more sharply than he meant to. He had hinted at pursuing careers outside Quidditch to his Dad and family, but she was the first person to know that he, without a doubt, was _not _going professional. Needless to say, her calm understanding was unexpected and more than a little frustrating.

"Whatever you want. Let yourself dream for a bit because you can do whatever you want. You're James Sirius Potter."

He shook his head. "I don't want to skate through life because my Dad saved the world when he was only a year older than me."

"That's not what I meant, Jamie. You're smart, you get excellent grades and you're pretty inventive with all those pranks. You actually like to study, if it's something you're interested in. You also have money so you don't have to worry about funding any post-Hogwarts study programs you want to get into. You also have lots of relatives who are well-known in their respective fields. I'm not saying let your last name speak for you but, say you wanted to go into law. You could easily get both advice and letters of recommendation from Aunt Hermione and Uncle Percy, they would be honest and try to do best by both you and whatever department you were applying for. You've got lots of resources, both in your family, and in that silly head of yours. So use them to do... whatever you want."

"Wow, never thought of it like that. Thanks."

"You're welcome. See, it's good to talk to your mates about these kind of things. I reckon I'm the first to know you're not going professional."

"Sort of, but 'doing whatever I want' entails figuring out 'what I want' and that's easier said than done."

She leaned back in her chair. "True, but that's something you've got to do for yourself. Through trial and error and failing miserably if need be."

"What about you? Have you any plans for after school?"

She shrugged. "Still not sure what I want. Though..."

"Though?"

"I'm thinking along the lines of food. It's a hard industry to get into, but I think I'd like it."

"So, what, you'd be one of those snooty chefs that only eats, like, three things and bellows at your subordinates?"

"No!" She replied, shocked. "Of course not. Can you see me yelling at someone?"

"Yes. I've actually seen it before."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. No, I'm thinking of something like this, actually. Working in, or maybe actually running, a bakery. I'd have to double major in business, but I think I could do it. Or I could manage the desserts for a catering company or something. But I don't think I'd like the restaurant atmosphere."

"Well, for what it's worth, I think you'll be brilliant at it. Merlin knows your fudge has been the cause of many arguments in my family over who gets the last square."

Izzy smiled and filled him in on other details of her life the past sixteen months and before James realized it, it was past six and Chance politely asked them to leave so he could close.

Once they were outside, Izzy checked her cell phone, "Bullocks, it's late! I'll bet Dad's been ringing me this whole time and who knows where Damian is!"

"Sorry, I should have kept track of the time."

She waved his apology away. "No, no. And, looks like Damian ran into Uncle George and he apparated him and Pinkerton home. And he told them where I was so it's all good. You _did _clean the house, right?"

James nodded and walked with her to the Leakey Cauldron where they could floo to their respective homes. "Believe me, it's sparkling. I've got calluses to prove it."

"Great, and I'll see you tomorrow at the Burrow, right?"

He glanced at her, feigning severity. "You better show up."

"Just try and keep me away. I'll even bring fudge, as a peace offering."

"Sounds good." James dropped a few knuts into the jar above the fireplace and grabbed a pinch of floo powder. "I had a good time, Izzy."

"Me too, Jamie. I really did miss you."

"I missed you too." James gave her a quick hug and then stepped into the fireplace before he could do something he would regret. This 'Dare' was proving more complicated than he could have ever imagined. He was seriously contemplating backing out and letting Fred take the mickey out of him for it for the rest of his life.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N Part 1: **Yes, I know how long it's been I can count. Warning: due to the nature of my job summers will not be good for updating. HOwever, I am back with renewed vigor! Many thanks to RainQueen, praecantatio and Boxcat and everyone else who PM'd me reminding and supporting me of this work. Also to all new followers: Hey there and welcome to the craziness!

**A/N Part 2: **I bet you thought I was an organized author what with my swapping POVs to regularly. Actually, I didn't even realize I was alternating until, like, 2 weeks ago. Yes, I didn't realize and it just came out that way. So for this chapter we're doing stuff a little different. It begins with James' POV and then, after the triple break line, it will go back to Isabelle's POV. Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter 23: The Best Prank Ever and The Worst Prank Ever**

"She's coming?"

"Yeah, she's coming."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Fred, I'm sure."

"And the... you know. How's that coming?"

James shrugged. "Well we're talking again, so that's progress."

"You also got her a Christmas present."

James rolled his eyes. "Yes because that's what friends do for each other."

"Yeah, sure. You never even got Wendy a Christmas present, and you two were more than friends. So what did you get her?"

"Get who, what?" Louis asked, swinging his beater's bat in lazy circles.

James finished tying his boots and stalked off. "No one and nothing. We playing or not?"

"Just coming!" Molly muttered through the knit hat she held between her teeth as she fitted her gloves on.

Roxanne sauntered over, broom slung across her shoulders. "So James, we haven't got second string with us and we've got no Keeper. How exactly is this 'over-hols' practice going to work if we can't even scrimmage properly?"

James stared blankly at his little cousin.

Fred leaned close to James and murmured, " You didn't think about this too hard, did you?"

James riled at this. "I was thinking that we lost out last match and we obviously need as much practice as we can get if we don't want to be out of the running for the Cup."

Lily scoffed. "We lost to Slytherin by thirty points. Next we're playing Hufflepuff and they've got a shoddy team this year. Seriously, James, what's up with this? We never practice over hols."

"Just get in the air." James mounted his broom and shot into the air. Unfortunately he could still hear the conversation below.

"Don't mind him, he's just frustrated with his personal life." Fred told them gleefully.

Lily scoffed. "James doesn't have a personal life."

"You're forgetting that redhead, Lily." Louis reminded her. "And you're his sister, shouldn't you remember stuff like that?"

"If you're talking about Wendy, for one thing her hair was not red it was orange. For another thing, Wendy's palm said she wouldn't find true love until much later in life and according to James' tea leaves he's already met his so, that's that."

"Oi!" James called down. "What part of 'get in the air' do you monkeys not understand?"

"Just coming!" Fred called back and shot into the air with Roxy, Lily and Louis.

With that, James released the snitch and the game was on. Molly started with the quaffle and shot towards the goal hoops at top speed, passing the quaffle to James, who passed to Roxy, who passed back to Molly in a seamless three-man-weave. As James approached the hoop a bludger came out of nowhere and James rolled to avoid it as he shot. The quaffle didn't even come close to the hoop.

"Come on, is that the best you've got?" Molly reprimanded, catching the ball and racing to the other end of the pitch.

They continued to play, Roxy scored twelve times and Molly did so fifteen. James however, was not up to his usual standard and his attempts became so pathetic that Fred stopped teasing him after his eighth failure. After Lily caught the snitch for the fifth time Molly sidled up next to him.

"James we've been at this for an hour and a half, let's call it quits, yeah?"

"Yeah." Louis agreed. "I'm not complaining, but I had hoped to do a bit more over hols than hit some bludgers around."

"Come on, team, let's give it another thirty minutes at least."

"Nope." Fred commented. "Not all of us want to go professional, coz. You can keep flying though, do some free shots if you want."

James sighed as his team flew to the ground, dismounted and began to stretch out their tired muscles.

Lily flew next to him and met his eyes. "You doing alright?"

"Doing just fine." James replied. "I just need to get my mind off things."

"You want me to stay out here with you? I could keep for a bit, I mean, no offense, but your shooting could use some practice."

James shook his head. "I think I'll just fly around for a bit. Oh, and seriously, don't worry anyone about me. I just need to think, yeah?"

Lily bit her lip but nodded and James turned his broom away from the Burrow and sped off. He loved his family but they tended to be a bit meddlesome and some well-meant hovering was the last thing he needed right now.

After few miles James increased his speed and threw himself into barrel rolls and crazy loops. It wasn't enough though, his body was itching to do something a bit more physical. It was like there was an insect inside of him, gnawing away at his thoughts and running up and down his skin and not letting him have a moments rest. He steered himself back to the Burrow, returned his broom to the shed and set off at a run towards the surrounding grassy hills.

There was something deliciously satisfying about his feet pounding into the soft earth beneath him, something almost relieving about leaving deep footprints with his heavy quidditch boots. And yet, his insides were still rubbing up against his skin the wrong way. Something in him was tearing to be let out and James wasn't a stranger to this feeling, not by a longshot. It was his temper.

When he was eight he had lost his temper with his little cousin, Lucy. Afterwards he had been so upset that he lost his temper about losing his temper and he christened the beast inside him, "Tempest" he had named it. It was a lame name, James knew, but he had been eight and since then it had just stuck in his brain.

Oh yes, Tempest was not happy, Tempest wanted to be set free to scream and throw things and destroy relationships. But James wouldn't have it, right now his life felt like a very delicate glass sculpture and one wrong move could shatter the whole thing.

James wished it was raining. He wished it was pouring rain and that he was soaked and trudging through mud, otherwise he wished he was back in Scotland freezing his arse off. This fake-winter that Devon offered did nothing to counter his internal intensity with physical effort.

He breathed in and out, as he pushed himself further and faster and soon his breaths came out in short puffs. His lungs felt ready to burst but he kept on, forcing his body to continue until his limits were a pale memory. Finally, his tired body slowed to the point that, as he continued to outrun Tempest, he tripped over his own feet, stumbled, fell and rolled onto his back. Lacking the will to hop up and continue running, James stared up at the sky, gasping for air.

It was enough. Tempest was sated for now and he could trust himself to go back to the Burrow, shower and be pleasant at the party this afternoon. Most of all, he could trust himself to spend the afternoon with her, hell, he might even be able to work up the idiocy to ask her out.

James groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. There was no way in heaven or hell that this would turn out even close to "okay." A little voice in the back of his mind told him remaining on his back in a strange meadow was a better way to live but James knew that that wouldn't solve anything. And, in a strange, almost masochistic way, James wanted to go back, he wanted to spend the afternoon with her because she was brilliant and when he wasn't thinking about how the last sixteen months had gone, he was extremely happy.

With a resigned sigh James opened his eyes, only to stare straight into a pair of violently purple ones.

"Gah!" James exclaimed with a jerk.

"Hey there." The eyes moved further away from him and James saw it was Teddy, who was sporting purple eyes, purple freckles and purple hair. "It's a good thing you're going professional, James, you'd make a shit auror."

"Whatever." James sat up, slightly embarrassed that his God-brother/cousin-in-law/for-all-intents-and-purp oses-older-brother had snuck up on him. "What are you doing here and how'd you find me?"

"I'm here to check up on you and as for how I found you," He tapped his nose "I'm an auror, and a good one too."

James rolled his eyes. "Lily put you up to this, didn't he? And I told her not to too, Merlin! I'm fine Teddy, really."

"Uh-huh." Teddy stood and then help James to his feet. "Well, we're both going back to the Burrow anyway, we might as well walk together."

James could tell Teddy didn't believe him, but let it pass. If he argued, it would just confirm Teddy's (true) suspicions that something was off. "Are we both headed back to the Burrow? Aren't you and Vic going to the Leaky Cauldron with the adults?"

Ted snorted. "Just because we're going to be parents - which, by the way, is still strange - doesn't mean we're old codgers. Besides, Uncle Percy mentioned something about you lot needing chaperones or something. Apparently, Vic and I are supposed to keep you out of trouble."

James laughed at this. "As if you two weren't behind the child-eating Christmas Tree of 2013."

They walked in silence for a bit and James noticed the chilly air for the first time. He pulled his sleeves down over his blue hands and blew heavily on them, trying to get the feeling back.

"Here, let me." Teddy pulled out his wand and waved it over James' hands, warming them.

"Cool, can you teach me that one?"

Teddy smirked. "Sure, but you'll have to truthfully tell me what's wrong."

"I'm fine!" James insisted.

"Then I'm not teaching you the warming charm."

"Fine."

"Fine."

They didn't speak again until James saw the Burrow on the horizon. "Izzy's coming this afternoon."

"This is Isabelle Cross, right?"

"Yeah. I went to see her yesterday. We talked for a long time and it was good."

"But..." Teddy prompted.

James glared at him. "I just don't know if I want to grab her by the shoulders and yell at her for treating me like shit or snog her senseless."

James looked up at Teddy, but his face was a mask of indifference, not showing whether he was shocked or pleased or upset or amused. James plowed on. "And I know it should be neither, but, it's hard. And, about the second one, it's just not fair. After all this time, it's only gotten worse and it doesn't make any sense."

"You know, you don't get to pick what you feel and who you feel it for."

"I know." James snapped then ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry. It's just, I'm afraid I'm going to ruin everything."

"How do you figure that one?"

"Well for one thing... she doesn't like me like that. And before you ask, yes I know for sure. She told me in no uncertain terms that we were friends and that was it. For another thing, I've put everything into this friendship and she's treated me like dirt and now she just shows up after sixteen months of absolutely no communication and just expects things to be okay! It's like she can take a vacation from being a decent human being and it's still easy for her because the rest of us are too nice to treat her like she deserves."

"James, if you want to 'treat her like she deserves' no one's stopping you. I'm not telling you to be a jerk, but if you don't want to be friends with her, no one's forcing you. Friendships dissolve every day, that's just the way life is."

James shook his head. "I don't think you've been listening Teddy. I want to hate her, true, but I want to lo- not hate her, more. She doesn't deserve it, but in a weird way, it makes me happy to give it to her anyway."

"So she's worth it?"

"Merlin, yes."

"So... what's the problem?"

"I've forgiven her, but I'm still angry and, mostly, I'm just hoping I haven't made a mistake. She asked for a second chance, I've given it to her, I really, really, really hope she delivers because that would be fantastic."

Teddy nodded. "That's not everything though."

"Sure it is. Now, warming charms, we're almost back."

"You're not being completely honest though."

"You didn't ask for the whole truth, just the truth. I didn't lie so..."

Teddy chuckled. "You sure you want to play Quidditch after school? You'd make an excellent member of Wizengamot, Merlin knows they make my life awful with their annoying sense of legality."

James just rolled his eyes and Teddy taught him the charm. It was fairly simple and James mastered it in under a half-hour.

"Alright now." Teddy said as they entered the house. "You smell like dragon dung, you better hit the showers before your friend gets here."

* * *

If I had been nervous before that first Christmas party at the Burrow, it was nothing compared to the butterflies knocking around in my belly the morning after James turned up in my front closet. I had changed my outfit five times, beating my previous record by two outfits, before settling on simple black trousers and a red jumper with a rainbow striped scarf. I had spent the night before making triple chocolate fudge and had even consented to let Tasha cast some freezing charms on it so it would have time to set correctly. I dragged Tasha to Diagon Alley once she got up this morning and tore through every shop to find the right gift for James. Despite the fudge turning out great and knowing that my gift was utterly perfect, my hands were shaking as I waited for Damian by the fireplace.

When he finally arrived, carrying a large tome with Ancient Runes on the front and a thick black journal, he looked me up and down before commenting that I 'looked ill'.

"I'm fine."

"Maybe it isn't such a good idea that you come."

"I'm fine." I snapped. "Let's just go."

He looked dubious. "If you're sure."

I huffed angrily, shifted the tin of fudge under my arm, gripped James' present firmly in one hand and took a pinch of floo powder in the other. I stepped into the fireplace and shot a glare at my brother before screwing up my face and calling out, "The Burrow."

The moment I tumbled into the Burrow I was assaulted with a sense of familiarity. It smelled the same: a mix of baking bread and must with a hint of chicken stench. The sitting room was crowded with groups of kids and teens of varying ages chatting, petting cats, snacking, playing exploding snap or showing off fancy wand work.

I brought my fudge into the adjacent sitting room where I knew the puddings would be set out. I set the tin between a tray of biscuits and a half-eaten pie with a note, Triple Chocolate Fudge - no nuts - with love from Isabelle Cross. I didn't think allergies were an issue with the clan, but I had been gone awhile and better safe than have someone miss out.

Not seeing James anywhere and not sure exactly who to talk to next, I walked around the room, just looking around. Damian had already joined his group of friends - the Sundry Six, the called themselves - in a rather violent looking match of Gobstones that, for one reason or another, included a ukelele and a gerbil. Vic and Teddy were on a couch together and I felt a jolt in my stomach when I noticed his hand was splayed across her rather prominent belly. James had failed to tell me that bit of news.

Then I saw something that shocked me. Al, Rose, Owen, Molly and Frank Longbottom were kneeling around a coffee table playing Scrabble. Since when did the largest wizarding family in the UK play muggle board games? I couldn't help but stare as Rose laid down her letters to spell out, "Dittany."

"33 points, wankers!" She crowed, marking the scoresheet. "Putting me 57 points above Molly who's in second."

Molly rolled her eyes. "Wash your mouth before a parent hears you, scourgifies your mouth and then hexes your dad for corrupting your mind. We don't want a repeat of summer hols."

I smiled a little, wondering how - and when - I had forgotten what fantastic people the Weasley-Potters were.

Molly took her turn and stood. "I'm getting another butterbeer. Anyone want some? Owen, no? Alright. Be back soon."

I realized too late that I was standing in the doorway and moved, trying furiously to look busy. Molly wasn't fooled. The moment she saw me her warm brown eyes lit up and a wave of guilt washed over me. She hugged me.

"Isabelle, how are you?"

"Good." I managed. "Better."

"James was out playing Quidditch earlier but I think he's around here somewhere."

"It's okay. He came to my house yesterday and we hung out for a bit after my work."

Molly grabbed my arm and led me towards the kitchen. "C'mon, let's get some butterbeers. So you're working, that's good. Where?"

"Flourish and Blotts. I really like it."

"Cool." She didn't look mad, or even surprised, part of me wondered if she had already known I was working there.

We passed the toilets on our way to the kitchen and I had to jump to the side of the hall to dodge a bare-chested boy who had a towel over his head.

"Watch it!" Molly reprimanded.

"Sorry." The boy pulled the towel over his face - it was James. We both froze. "Oh, hi Izzy."

To my embarrassment my eyes darted down to his chest before meeting his eyes. "Guess we're even now, Jamie."

"Yeah. I guess so." He turned away from the bathroom and darted up the stairs, his face slightly red.

"Even?" Molly prompted.

I shrugged. "He came to my house unexpectedly, I was in my pajamas. No big deal."

Molly looked skeptical. "Uh-huh."

"Butterbeers." I reminded her and walked into the kitchen.

"Butterbeers." She agreed.

When we entered the kitchen we found Scor, Louis and Fred on their knees gathered around a wooden chest, muttering to each other.

Molly winked at me, snuck up behind them and cleared her throat in a perfect imitation of her namesake.

"Grandmum!" They exclaimed in unison looking up. When they saw it was just Molly they scoffed and returned to their task.

"Come on." Molly told them. "You really think Teddy's going to let you get away with this?"

Fred scoffed. "Mum always said that the baby stole her brain when she was pregnant. Well the opposite happened with Vic and Teddy, Teddy hardly remembers to change his shirt everyday, he won't notice a thing."

"Besides," Scor added "we're going to charm it so it looks like butterbeer."

Molly sighed and hit them each upside the head."No."

"Ouch!" Louis exclaimed and he rounded on his cousin, coming to his full height which was much taller than I remembered. "Come on Molly, I'm of age."

He looked over Molly's head and noticed me. I smiled slightly. "Hey."

"Isabelle!" He pushed past Molly and enveloped me in a bear hug.

"Louis, how tall are you?" I couldn't help but demand.

"1.9 meters" He said proudly, setting me down. "I passed Dad over the summer, but I'm still shorter than Teddy."

"Who's that?" Scor asked.

"Blondie!" Fred exclaimed and they boys attacked me.

"What are you doing here?" Scor asked.

I shrugged. "Jamie invited me. Your Mum too." I nodded at Molly. "I looked at the wooden chest. It had a large silver lock on in and three hairpins and someone's wand was sticking out of it. "What were you trying to do?"

Fred and Louis looked at the ground but Scor grinned. "Break into the firewhiskey."

I raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be the one against this, I mean, your Mum runs a rehab center."

Scor shrugged. "It not like we were going to give it to the kids or do anything stupid with it."

I nodded. "Yeah, sure. C'mon, I want butterbeer, I haven't had a proper one in a long time."

Scor glanced wistfully at the alcohol chest.

"I'll tell Rosie." Molly warned.

Scor blanched and removed his wand and the hairpins from the lock.

Fred handed me a mug of frothy butterbeer. "Why would it be bad to tell Rose? I can hardly imagine she'd chew you out for it."

Scor shook his head. "No, but she'd get this chest open in a trice and she doesn't exactly get the concept of temperance. She'd be drunk before the night was out and then we'd have to bribe Hu and Fuzz to brew some hang-over potion so the parentals don't catch wind of things."

I coughed. "Wait, wait, you have my little brother covering up your antics?!"

Fred scoffed. "Course we do. Little blighter's only too happy to help us out and we know he won't tell. Besides, the kid's practically OWL at potions."

I nodded. "Yeah, their Professor wants him to take his potions OWL early and have him join the sixth years next year."

"What'll he do after he takes his NEWTs two years early?" Louis asked.

"Further studying, Damian says hopefully he'll be able to work on this project he and Hugo are dedicated to, can't remember what they call it."

"Uncle Polly."

I turned, it was James. I eyed his Gryffindor Quidditch Jumper that had 'Captain' emblazoned on the back. "Nice jumper and yes, I think Uncle Polly is what they're calling it."

James smirked, stood next to me and leaned back against the kitchen counter. "How's our project coming? The one including firewhiskey."

"Molly the Second halted our actions." Fred complained.

"Molls!" James groaned.

"James." She mocked. "I'm not letting you all muck this up. Our parents have been getting more and more strict the more of us grow up. It's very nice to have times like this Christmas party when they're all out. If you lot break into the alcohol they'll make my Dad chaperone us everywhere."

Owen poked his head into the kitchen. "Molly, it's your turn and Rose's up by a hundred and three points now. Please, help us beat her. She's awful when she wins."

Molly glared at the boys and then looked at me. "Keep them in line, eh?"

I nodded. When she left Fred nudged James. "She is not invited to your 17th, mate."

"Nope." James agreed.

"Where is that going to be?" Scor asked, obviously trying to sound nonchalant.

Louis scoffed. "You're not invited either, shrimp."

"Ok, but seriously, where?" I asked. "I mean, his birthday's in March. Are you going to break into the Village, and if so, how are you going to avoid being caught?"

Fred merely tapped his nose. "Well, that's up to us. Is Blondie invited?"

James shrugged. "If she wants to, now how about-"

He was cut off by a loud squeal. "ISABELLE!" Lily raced into the room and flung herself at me. "I cannot believe your brother!"

"Good to see you too, Lils. But why can't you believe Damian?"

She sighed dramatically. "I knew that something important was going to happen tonight, of course. The juxtaposition of Saturn was just too obvious for anyone to think otherwise, but I didn't think it would mean you would be here! He told me just as the gerbil was on my elbow and I got so excited that I made Lucy play the ukulele off-key again and since Hugo was the last one to get goo-ed I was out."

I nodded, trying to look as though I understood a word she had just said. "Oh, well, that was just awful of him."

She simply grinned wider. "Care to join in on the next round?"

"Er." I looked at James who fortunately came to my rescue.

"How about a game of Exploding Snap?" James offered. "We'll even include the hamster, if you want."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Amsterdam is a gerbil and I doubt Fuzz'll let us borrow him."

We made our way to the sitting rooms, we found an empty spot of floor and sat in circle as Scor went to get a deck.

I sat between James and Lily, "I'm sorry, but why does Damian get a say in who plays with the gerbil?"

"Oh, well, Ammie's technically Hugo's gerbil but he's bullocks at taking care of him so Fuzz makes sure the little guy gets taken care of. For all intents and purposes, Ammie belongs to your brother."

I nodded, trying not to let my confused amusement show on my face and focused my attention on Scor who was now dealing the cards. We played a few games, one of which I won and afterwards I let James heal my burned fingers and mend my singed sleeve.

Rose approached our group. "Hey, it's dark enough for a game of ice-sardines, what do you say?"

Louis wanted to know if Teddy was playing. Rose nodded and Al came up from behind her. "Everyone's playing - even Vic."

"Speaking of, how far along is she?" I asked, nudging James. "Someone neglected to tell me she was even pregnant."

Al seemed to notice me for the first time. "Oh, hey Isabelle! Yeah, she's due in June or something like that. They're having a little girl, whose name is yet to be revealed."

At that moment Dominique stood up on a chair and called out. "James you're it for ice-sardines - we'll start looking in two minutes so get outside."

James groaned but pulled on his jacket and went outside. "Make sure the wandless get torches."

"Righty-oh." Molly came out with a basket of electric torches. "Alright, little ones, and Isabelle, of course. Grab a torch, you're going to want one."

I took a purple one and Louis threw an extra jumper at me.

"You're going to want to bundle up, it's cold this year."

"What exactly is, ice-sardines?" I asked, pulling on the lumpy maroon knit-jumper.

"Just like sardines - James will hide and then we'll look for him. When we find him we've got to hide with him and the last person searching loses. Ice refers to the fact that we'll be outside the whole time. By the end, we get pretty frozen."

I nodded and tightened my scarf. "Want to search with me?"

He nodded and we went outside, wandering about in the cold night with only my rather dim torch and his light-tipped wand.

"So how've you been?" I asked.

"Good. Studying for my Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, so that's fun."

I chuckled and peeked under the chicken coop, only to find a broken pair of hedge clippers. "I bet you're tired of hearing this, but what do you want to do afterward Hogwarts?"

"I'm not tired of that question at all. I'm continuing my studies to be an Obliviator. I'm applying to a few different programs, the one in London, of course, but I also applied to the programs in Paris, Munich, Zurich, Durban, South Africa and Port au Prince, Haiti."

I raised an eyebrow. "Wow, that's, um, varied."

"Is it? I'm really hoping to get into the one in Zurich. Switzerland is foreign enough, while still staying close to home and there's no language barrier. Plus, their program is the best in the world for Obliviators. Think he could be behind here?" He pointed the the Quidditch shed.

We checked it out but James wasn't there either so we continued searching. I told him about Flourish and Blotts and Pinkerton and the animal shelter. Louis told me he had always wanted a dog but they weren't big in the wizarding world and Vic and Dom always wanted cats.

"Cats are creepy." I told him. "And pretentious."

"Agreed, but the family loves them and won't hear a word against them."

A few minutes later we ran into Al, Rose and Scor and we searched together, making small talk every now and again, wondering what exactly the parents got up to at the Leaky Cauldron, brainstorming good names for the first Weasley great-grandchild and looking for James.

We passed by the stonewall that circled the Burrow and I something shiny glinted in the light of my torch. I held back and investigated further, it was Lucy's glasses. She was huddled on the ground beside James, Damian, Charlotte and Alice.

"Budge over." I whispered and squatted beside him. Part of me wanted to call out to the others that I had found James but that was against the rules. Beside the best part about sardines was suddenly finding a member of your party gone - I could only imagine that it would be even creepier in the dark.

"Well done, Izzy." James told me. "Lu wins though, it only took her and Fuzz three minutes to find me."

I nodded and made myself comfortable. After a few minutes Al, Lorcan, Lysander and Frank joined us and after a half-hour the hiding place was positively crammed.

"Are we all here yet?" Dom groaned.

"Not yet," Vic replied. "We're still waiting on Louis, Al and Rose."

"Well tell them to hurry up!" I heard Makai complain. "My legs are getting cramped."

"Yeah, my hands are freezing." I murmured to myself.

Suddenly James was next to me. "Here." He pulled off my gloves and held my hands in one of my own. He held his wand over top of them. "Do you mind?"

I thought for a moment then nodded. He murmured something in Latin and a heat coursed through my hands. "Thanks."

"No problem." He twirled his wand a few times before sticking it behind his ear.

It was another twenty minutes before everyone but Rose was squashed up against the stone wall and five minutes after that she finally found us. While the younger ones raced inside to claim the first mugs of Grandmum's hot chocolate, the rest of us held back before making our way inside.

After a few mugs of hot chocolate and a long conversation with Grandmum and Granddad Weasley about what I had been up to lately and how satellites and wifi worked, I found James in the sitting room playing chess with Molly.

"Hey."

"Don't talk." James snapped. "Sorry, but please, I need to concentrate."

I sat down on the floor next to the table, but James wasn't going to get the quiet he wanted. At that moment Fred careened into James and threw his arms around his cousin's neck.

"I REALIZED SOMETHING!" Fred bellowed.

"Geroof me!" James groaned as he lifted Fred off him and tossed him on the floor.

Molly rolled her eyes and commanded her bishop to move across the board. "Calm down, Fred."

Fred sat up and scooted over to us and rubbed his hands together excitedly. "Who is the greatest prankster in the house?!"

"Me." James and I replied in unison.

We looked at each other. "It's me." I told him, "Remember the toilet stalls?"

James scoffed. "That was good, but you're forgetting when I charmed your window to make outside look upside down."

"I put a goldfish in your morning tea."

"I convinced you that Crumple-horned snorkacks existed."

"I scared your pants off when I jumped out of the rubbish bin."

"I stuck your hand to your arse for an entire afternoon."

I was about to remind him of the time I swapped out his glasses so he was seeing everything in threes but Fred interjected. "The prank war never officially ended."

"So, what do you propose?" Molly asked. "Oh, and checkmate, James."

James looked back at the board and swore. "Fine. Good game, Molls and thanks Fred, for losing me a game."

"You're welcome, cuz. And you're welcome for what I'm about to do next."

James looked downright scared. "Wait, Fred, what-"

Fred turned to me. "What are you doing next Sunday?"

"Um..."

"You're coming to brunch here." Fred told me with a grin. "Come prepared to prank and be pranked. You will have one chance to best each other, I will judge."

I was still a little confused, and it seemed James was too. "Fred, man, you don't have to-"

"Oh come on! Don't you want to see who's the better prankster, you or Blondie?"

"Well-"

"And don't you think this might just help you out with the... other thing."

Fred looked eager to send a not-so-secret message to James while James looked ready to commit murder. I knew I was playing right into Fred's conniving hands but I couldn't help myself.

"What 'other thing' Jamie?"

"Nothing." He asserted. "Fine, yes, if Izzy agrees, we'll both play a prank on each other next week at Sunday brunch. You'll judge by that prank, and that prank alone, who is the better prankster."

He looked at me and I nodded. "Sounds good to me, you're going down, Potter."

He smirked. "Just keep telling yourself that, Cross."

Fred clapped us each on the shoulder and then stood up. "Great, I'll alert everyone!"

Molly followed him and threw a look over her shoulder at me. She was trying to tell me something, but I couldn't tell what. "I'll help, Fred, wait for me!"

James and I were left alone. He started putting away the wizard's chess. I checked my phone out of habit. It was nearly ten-thirty. "Whoah, it's late. Damian and I had better get back."

James ears went slightly red. "Wait, um, I got you something."

"Me too." I told him, remembering the perfect gift I had chosen for him. "I wasn't sure about it, but it just sort of screamed 'James' so I had to get it."

"Same here!" He brought out his wand and summoned a rather large box wrapped in red and gold paper. Perhaps he saw the shock on my face at the size because he smiled and said, "Don't worry, it's smaller than it looks. Go on, open it... it's okay if you hate it." He added, looking at his shoes.

I pulled my much smaller gift from my purse and handed it to him. "Ditto. On the 'it's okay if you hate it' part, not the 'smaller than it looks' part.

My eyes met his and they stayed locked as we carefully slid open the packages. Then I remembered that I always always made a point of tearing open presents like a kindergartener. I blinked a few times and then snorted back a laugh.

James looked concerned. "What?"

"No, nothing, just... we're acting super uptight right now."

"Are we?"

I shrugged. "I am, which is stupid because we're friends." I turned my attention to the package covering my lap and tore the wrapping off in large handfuls. "A box! Wow, James, you shouldn't have."

"And you got me a mirror. Is that some sort of slam at my supposed vanity and arrogance?"

I flipped the box over - leave it to James to wrap something upside down - and shook my head. "Nope, it's a magic mirror I've got- oh. Wow."

It was a camera. A magic, printed-gif-making camera with a gift-certificate to a development studio in Diagon Alley.

"I know you don't exactly like magic but-"

I cut him off with a bear hug. "I love it! Thank you."

"Your welcome, but I'm still confused about this mirror. No offense, it's a nice mirror but-"

"I told you, it's magic. I've got the other half, say my name into it. It's like handheld Skype - for just two people... actually, nevermind, just try it out."

He looked dubious but looked into the small mirror, "Uh, Isabelle...? Isabelle Miranda Cross? Izzy?"

A buzzing noise came from my purse and I took out my mirror which was glowing blue. I spoke to it and James' face appeared.

"Whoah! I can see you and hear you too! Does this work over long distances?"

"Anywhere in the world."

"Cool." He looked up at me "You do know there's no way you're going to get away with missing a Hogsmeade weekend now, right?"

"This is kind of my way of saying, I'm not going to miss a Hogsmeade weekend again - barring illness or emergency."

James nodded, stood up and walked me towards the fireplace. "So you'll come around next week for brunch?"

I smirked. "Of course I'll come around next week to prank your pants off."

"Not if I prank yours off first."

* * *

After three days of hitting my head against my desk as I scrounged for prank ideas and only receiving the most cliché and dumb, albeit well-meant, suggestions from Anne-Marie and Kevin I decided to take drastic action. I called up the Forbes, took the week off work, packed a bag for myself and another for Pinkerton, bought a bus ticket and went down to visit Sophie and Max, who had already alerted Jack, Dean and Rachel of my emergency.

As we sat in a circle in Max's bedroom, I couldn't help but make a mental note to thank Fred later. After all, if it weren't for that utter git, I wouldn't be plotting with my friends like old times. We talked, laughed, discussed, drank far too much Pepsi and brainstormed for over three hours before Max proclaimed that if I didn't stop scrunching up my nose while I concentrated he was going to hit something.

I was about to protest that it was an unconscious reaction, when Sophie interrupted. "Why don't you fill us in on what you've been doing lately, Isabelle? Last I heard you weren't even talking to James."

I shrugged. "We had a fight, but no big deal. He came around about a week ago and we made up."

Jack was stroking Pinky's black and white head. "In other news, what's the story behind how this one came into your life."

I nodded and told them about Kevin, the shelter and house training Pinkerton with Dad. We spent the next few hours catching up. Max was set to go to Uni for English and Education, Sophie was dating some bloke called Craig that I had never heard of, Dean and Rachel were no longer 'a thing' but that hasn't stopped them from starting a band with Jack, Rachel's sister and Dean's cousin. Apparently they were pretty good, had a thousand subscribers on YouTube and were fundraising for proper recording material.

I told them about my job at the bookstore and about my visit to the Burrow and how amazing the Potter-Weasley clan was while somehow managing to keep maintain the Statute of Secrecy all leading to how exactly I had gotten into the predicament of owing James one mind-blowingly brilliant prank by Sunday.

It wasn't until the next morning, when I received a letter from Louis via owl, that the idea for the best prank ever stuck me. After telling Sophie and Max my plan, Pinkerton and I packed up and headed to London knowing that we'd need all the time we could get, not to mention Damian's advice on how to coerce Lily into helping me.

As it turned out Lily was only too happy to help me prank the pants off her brother and not only stole James' favorite robes, but also snuck them to our house so I could prepare them.

The weather Sunday morning did not bode well for my plans. It was ghastly outside with dark clouds blocking out the sun and the kind of chilly, light drizzle that makes everyone, rain-lovers and rain-haters alike, hole themselves up inside. I could only hope, as I flooed to the Burrow, that the weather would be fairer further south – it was worse. The sky was black and there was also a thick fog misting up the windows. I was happy to note, though, that the Burrow maintained its characteristic cheer despite the poor weather.

The house was filled with not only cousins, but also Aunts, Uncles, and those whom I was sure were in-laws. I made my rounds, greeting the adults I hadn't seen in a long time with hugs and promises of baked goods and introducing myself to the Grangers, the Johnsons and the Dearborn's, as James' friend – not girlfriend.

"You really should just start saying your Molly's friend, or something." I heard James say before he embraced me from behind.

"I was your friend first." I grumbled as I turned to face him. "And you're the reason I'm here anyway."

James just shrugged and I caught myself staring at his robes. Perhaps if I accidentally-on-purpose spilled some pumpkin juice on them, he'd have to change. That could backfire though, what if he knew the scourgify charm? I could always figure out a way to tear them in a way that seemed accidental, but that would be mean, I didn't want to ruin his robes. What it I just got him soaking wet? Yes, if I could persuade him to stand still while I got a bucket…

"You alright, Izzy?" James' voice called through my racing thoughts. "You went spacey for a moment there."

"Oh yeah, just thinking.

"What about?"

I blinked. I couldn't just say, 'how to get you to take off your robes' because he'd take that the completely wrong way. "Um, where's your Dad?"

Where's your Dad? I thought. Where did that come from? Well, you really haven't seen Uncle Harry and you've been in every room on the floor. Shut up! Now he'll know you're nervous about the prank and the last thing you need to do is show weakness!

Again James interrupted my crazy-worried thinking. "Ah, that. Can't say."

"Oh." That was a surprise, maybe Uncle Harry really is gone, though that's a tad ridiculous seeing as Christmas wasn't even two weeks ago.

"Auror business."

"Oh." I nodded, then realized that was the second time I'd replied 'oh.' "But, I mean, he's okay, right?"

James just shrugged again. "Not 'won't say,' Izzy, 'can't say.' Do I hope he's safe? Of course. Is he probably safe? Yeah. Do I know if he's safe? Can't say."

I blinked. "You don't know?"

He sucked in a deep breath. "It's easier this way. The less we know, the less the wireless will incite our worry. He might tell us all about it after he comes back."

"And when will that be?" I asked quietly.

"Can't say. He's been gone, oh... four days now."

I tried to imagine Dad being gone for four days, not knowing where he was or what exactly he was doing or what kind of danger he could be in, with no set return date. I couldn't do it. James seemed to read that on my face.

He reached over and patted my hand lightly. "Hey, don't worry about it. We're used to it. Dad used to be out in the field loads when I was growing up. It's less often now that he's head."

"But over Christmas Hols?" I asked, my voice still faint.

James granted me a half-smile. "Evil doesn't take a holiday. Besides, if we asked him, he'd stop."

"Really?" He didn't say anything, but I could tell he was being sincere. "So, why don't you? Or why doesn't your Mum - it's got to be hardest on her?"

James nodded. "It's hard on us all, but, Dad wouldn't really be Dad unless he was saving someone. It was, like, ingrained in him when he was just a kid and I'm not exactly sure if he'd know how to do anything else."

"Sounds the tiniest bit selfish to me." I sniffed.

James raised an eyebrow.

"Not that I mean any offense." I added quickly.

"No, no, it's just...that's exactly what I said."

"You said that? To your Dad?" I may not have grown up on legends of Harry Potter defeating the evil Tom Riddle, but I had to admit that Uncle Harry was an intimidating man. He wasn't tall like Uncle Ron or heavily scarred like Uncle Bill, but he had an air about him that demanded respect. I couldn't imagine disagreeing with him, much less telling him off.

James chuckled at my shock. "Don't look so surprised. To me, he's just Dad. A bit imposing, maybe, but at the end day he still cowers when Mum shouts at him for leaving the toilet seat up. And, I didn't exactly say that to him."

"Oh, for a moment there-"

"I screamed that he was a self-absorbed and glory-seeking prat who didn't give a damn about his wife and kids."

"You didn't." I breathed.

"I did too. Half of the village heard - you can ask anyone in Godric's Hollow."

"When?" I demanded, still dumbstruck.

"Oh, years ago. Right before second year it must have been."

Perhaps I was prying but I was extremely curious. I scooted my chair closer to his. "Why?"

"He'd been gone all summer. And that's not an exaggeration. He left June third and didn't come back until August twenty-ninth. He went MIA twice, once for ten days, and then again for three weeks."

"Wh-what was going on?"

"Uprising in Belfast. I'm sure you heard about the crazy strikes on the telly, we can't keep all of it from the muggles. Anyway, it was a bunch of crazy-arse Neo-Purists, Death Eaters. Scor's Dad was there too, he got a nasty leg injury and left the field early. The next day Dad went on a raid, even though Mr. Malfoy was missing from his squad. That was when he went missing for the second time. By the third week, no one was saying anything, but we were really scared. Then he came back and I hardly waited a half hour before yelling at him. I was a bit of an arse at the age of twelve."

I had to smile at that. "Yeah, wasn't that the year you weren't talking to Al too?"

"Yep. Anyway, Dad heard me out and then said, 'Son, if you want me to stop, just ask and I'll do it. It's the same for your Mother and, when they're old enough to understand, your brother and sister.' But, after thinking about it for awhile, I realized, I couldn't do it. Just like Mum would never be able to do it. It's part of him."

"I guess I can understand that. I can't imagine Dad doing anything but tinkering about in his lab and discovering new ways to ease chronic pain."

James smiled. "Now come on, everyone's sitting down. You don't want to deprive Grandmum Weasley a chance to bemoan your skinniness and give you three helpings of everything."

For the first time I realized why the kitchen was so large and why there was no wall, rather just enormous sliding doors, between the kitchen and the playroom. Something around eight tables were stretched out between the two vast rooms, allowing everyone to sit altogether in two long rows. After Grandmum placed the last platter of sausage on the table and bid everyone to eat, the adults drew their wands and conjured chairs and benches, of varying heights, lengths, and styles for us to sit on. I ended up on a low, red and gold cushioned bench between James and Uncle Ron, who seemed to be trying to out-eat each other.

After giving Jamie the fourth helping of toast Grandmum had added to my plate, I leaned across the table to get Mrs. Granger's attention. "Where is it all going?"

She snorted. "I've known Ronald since he was younger than you Isabelle, and I still haven't figured it out. And as for your young man, I hear he's planning on going professional after Hogwarts, all that training's got to be fueled somehow. I hope you don't mind cooking for an army."

I decided to ignore that she'd mistaken James and I for a couple and instead engaged Grandpa Weasley in a conversation that included me explaining the exact process of using a clothing washer and dryer. The food was almost all gone when I felt someone nudge my back.

I turned to find myself eye-to-eye with Lily. "What are you going to do about the…"

I cut her off. "I'll think of something. You don't think he's forgotten, by chance?"

She shook her head. "Fred hasn't let him, he hasn't shut up about it since last Saturday."

I let out a small groan.

Lily bit her lip, then patted my shoulder. "You owe me."

"Owe you what?" I asked, hesitantly.

"A day in muggle London! No one else, just me and you."

I blinked. "Deal – but not on a school day or anything that breaks rules.

"Fine." She then hit James' shoulder with a resonating thump.

"OW!" James spun around on the bench to face his attacker. On seeing it was Lily, his expression changed from rage to shock. "Lily, what the hell!?"

She winced. "Sorry, I thought, well, there was a, you see." She placed a hand on her hip and cocked her head to the side with a noisy huff. "Merlin's sake, James, it was for your own good."

He massaged his shoulder as I, and several other clanners, watched the strange scene unfold. "My own good, Lils?!"

Lily pointed at his chest and hissed, "That, that, thing is messing up your aura."

James raised an eyebrow. "My chest is messing with my aura?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Your robes, there's something wrong with them! What was the last potion you brewed? Sometimes armadillo bile fumes react badly with-"

James cut her off. "I haven't taken potions since 5th year, you know that and hey!"

James threw out an arm to block the punch Lily had been aiming at his gut. 'There!" She screeched. "It's doing it again. Take them off, James! Take them off!"

Lily glared at me from the corner of her eye and I realized what she was at. I quickly grabbed my purse, ducked under the table and avoided feet and chair legs as I made my way out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Once there I raced upstairs to the cabinet I knew Grandmum Weasley stashed extra clothes in, and hastily placed James' robes in them. Then I rushed back to the table before anyone could miss me.

It seemed as though James and Lily's argument was winding to a close, as James was sitting on his sister's legs and held both arms in his large hands. "So you're telling me that if I don't change my robes, based on what you saw in that reflecting pool last week, evil will befall me?"

Lily simply nodded. "Please, James."

James sighed, stood up, helped her to her feet, and exited the room. I looked at Lily. "How did you know that was going to work?"

She smiled. "James is a better big brother than everyone – himself included – thinks he is. Despite that I know what he really thinks, he'll never point blank doubt my abilities as a Seer."

Remembering that the last time I had let Lily read my tea leaves she had told me sugary ambassadors were in my future, I was impressed. "That's really sweet of him, actually."

Lily opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by Grandmum's piercing voice, that echoed through down the table without a sonorous charm.

"Clean up time! Everyone's pitching in while your father and the rest of the adults relax in the sitting room." As she doled out responsibilities I tugged on Uncle Ron's sleeve to get his attention.

"What did she mean, 'your father'? And if the adults are exempt, why'd she tell Uncle Percy to sweep the floor?"

Uncle Ron laughed. "She hasn't gotten the hang of old age yet, you see. She still sees my generation as kids and doesn't get that all the kids are not, in fact, her own off-spring. 'Your father' means my Dad, Grandpa Weasley to you, and I expect by the 'adults' she means my parents-in-law, Audrey's Mum and Dad and Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. Oh, look at that, though, miracles happen, she's letting Vic off because she's pregnant. When Ginny was pregnant it was all, 'if I could raise six sons while pregnant with you, you can wash the dishes.'

I chuckled then set to work helping Rose and Albus put dishes away.

"Honestly," Rose complained. "We employ house elves. Shouldn't they be doing this?"

"Don't let you Mum hear you saying that." Al warned. "You know how adamant she is that they get a day off, especially around the Hols."

Rose fingered her wand she used to hold her curly mop of hair in a bun. "The least Grandmum could do is let us use magic."

I chuckled, "Yeah, because putting dishes away is so difficult. I can't imagine how muggles manage."

Rose just scowled and muscled a tall stack of plates into the cupboard. "If an easier, more efficient route is possible then I don't see why we're banned from using it."

Al was organizing the utensil drawer and happily remarked. "Dad says it builds character. Besides, one day you might go broke and not be able to afford a house elf."

"And you won't be able to borrow one from a family member because you've estranged yourself from the clan to go find yourself in Guam." I added.

Al sniggered. "And you don't have any friends there either because Scor and I are the only two willing to put up with your temper for long."

"Who said what about a temper?" James asked, entering the room and taking a stack up cups from my hand.

I stifled a grin of satisfaction as I noticed that a gray striped tabby was following James, its tail held high. "Oh, nothing, we're just teasing Rose."

James smirked. "She complaining about Scorpy again?"

I blinked, almost too surprised to notice three small kittens enter the kitchen, their noses sniffing excitedly. "No. What's this about our blonde Slytherin friend, Rose?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Ignore them, they're being dumb."

"That's not who you called dumb before the end of term." Al quipped.

"Naw, it was Delaney Winters who was dumb then." James sniggered.

"And Laura Hurt." James added.

"Mandy Cooper."

"Leah Smith."

"Alison Myers."

"Moira Grace."

I glanced at Rose. Her face wasn't red like I expected, but her eyes had taken on a stone cold fury that had me truly frightened for the welfare of the Potter boys.

"Hey, where is Scor, anyway?" I interjected.

They looked at me, as though remembering that I was still there. "He doesn't generally come to Sunday Brunches." Rose told me. "And seriously, don't listen to James and Al. Delaney, Laura, Mandy, Leah and Moira are all fantastic girls in my dorm. They all just happen to fancy themselves in love with Scor which is, to be honest, extremely daft. He won't go after them."

James leaned closer to me, and I noticed a black tomcat rubbing against his leg. "We've a theory that it's herself she's trying to convince in that respect, if you catch my drift. We have good sources who say he actually kissed Mandy Cooper."

I rolled my eyes and hissed back as I set another stack of plates in the cupboard. "Leave her alone, she's allowed to be in denial for as long as she wants. And it's not as though Scor's giving her an opening so, shove off her."

James scowled, grabbed a stack of bowls and knelt to place them in the bottom cupboard only to nearly squash three striped cats. "Damn it, Sundance, Daffodil, Butter. Get out of my way!"

I scrunched my nose up. "Do you really know all the cats names?"

"Sure. Those cats were Tidbits and Surly's fourth litter and thus, have names revolving around the color yellow. The blue cats belong to Vic and Teddy – Bread and Russia just had a litter. See," He pointed to a cluster of eight kitties gathered around his feet "that's Ocean, Sky, Cornflower, Blueberry, Azure, Jay, Periwinkle and Aqua."

"You're family's barking and cats are creepy."

James just shrugged and we worked in silence, though I watched with glee as our corner of the kitchen became crowded with cats. The only thing that made it better was James' insistence on addressing each one by name.

"Budge over, Upside."

"Bourbon, please stop using my leg as a scratch post."

"I would really appreciate it, Prime Minister, if you didn't jump on my head like that."

"Artsy-Fartsy! Quit that!"

When we finally finished, Al proposed a game of Exploding Snap in the sitting room. He and Rose left first, then James and I stayed back as I watched a parade of felines follow him into the next room.

We didn't get through the first round before he figured it out. Sitting on the floor, James' robes were perfectly situated to be ripped to shreds, but fortunately for Lily's protective spells, the fabric held against the cat's sharp claws.

"Seriously, Rotini?" James exclaimed, shoving a white cat away. "What is wrong with these cats?"

I couldn't help it, I let out a giggle. "Still think cats are the greatest pet ever, Jamie."

He glared at me. "One, I never claimed that. Two, they're not normally…" His eyes grew wide. "You."

"Me?" I feigned innocence.

He stood and spun in a circle only to see a ring of cats, eight felines thick, had gathered around him and were eyeing at his swishing black robes hungrily.

At that moment Aunt Hermione entered. "Merlin's pants! What's this?"

The cats began to meow and approach James, reaching up to take a swipe at his clothes.

"Izzy!" James called out. "What have you done?"

Aunt Hermione's exclamation must have alerted the rest of the clan. Soon Uncle George was guffawing in the corner, Aunt Ginny was barely repressing a grin, Teddy was rapt, watching the cats have a go at James, Lily and Fred were holding each other up as the laughed loudly at James' distress and people were still crowding around, trying to get a glimpse of the spectacle.

"ISABELLE MIRANDA CROSS! YOU GET THESE CATS OFF ME THIS INSTANT!" James demanded.

He glared at me. I grinned.

"Please?" He whimpered.

"Sure, sure." I made my way through the army of cats, knelt next to James and pulled on the loose black thread near the bottom. Instantly his robes gained three inches as the hem was let down and dried catnip leaves fell to the ground.

The cats attacked the leaves immediately and James was able to sneak away from them. "What was that?!"

"A good prank including my least favorite animal and catnip. I can fix you robes later, I just messed with the hem a bit."

He looked a bit dumbfounded. "Isabelle, you must be the most crafty person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"Why thank you."

"But you're still not as good as me."

I scoffed. "Hey, Fred? What did you think of that?"

"Bloody brilliant, Blondie. Hey, that rhymed."

James smacked Fred's head. "No it didn't, you idiot, that's alliteration. Now, please entertain our guest while I prepare the greatest prank any of you will ever see."

James disappeared and I found myself constantly checking over my shoulder and above my head as I joined Fred, Molly, Louis, Rose and Al in a game of Exploding Snap. Needless to say, being distracted, I lost terribly.

Nearly two hours later, as I begrudgingly let Louis heal my burned fingers and grow back my singed eyebrows Alice approached me and tugged my sleeve. "James wants you in the kitchen.

I looked at Louis. "Does he really think I'm that daft?"

Louis replied. "If he does, he's daft. I don't think I've heard an invitation that screamed 'trap' more than this one."

"Alice, did he look like he was up to something?"

Alice nodded. "He wanted me to get you because he says I'm innocent looking."

I sighed, "Well, c'mon Louis, let's indulge James' pathetic pranking skills."

James hadn't even tried to mask that he was setting up a prank. He was standing on a stool, holding a bucket above his head, and there was a ring of blue fireworks on the floor.

"Really Jamie?"

He cheeks flushed red. "Listen, I know this is pathetic, but please, could you help, Izzy?"

I was about to scoff and roll my eyes but when I saw Louis make the exact same gesture. I walked over to James' stool and looked up, expectantly. I mean, I liked Louis and everything, but it was one of those, 'yes my mate's an idiot but only I can call him out on it because he's my idiot'. Not that James was mine, I reminded myself, he was just my friend, and an idiot and only I could take the mickey out of him for it because that was the way the universe worked and who cared that Louis probably had more claim because he was James' cousin. Merlin, I was rambling to myself now, this wasn't good.

"What do you need Jamie?" I asked, trying to keep exasperation from my voice.

"Can you just get me a broom, the sweeping kind, not the riding kind."

I fetched one from under the stairs and tried to hand it to him, but he was holding the bucket with two hands. "Um, can you drop the bucket for a moment, and..."

James cut me off. "No, the bucket's full of water. Here, I'm going to press it up against the ceiling and you're going to press the broom up against the bottom and hold it there. Got it?"

"Sure."

Once the bucket was secured, James climbed down from the stool and moved it out of the way, leaving me in the middle of a ring of fireworks, holding a bucket of water over my head with a broom, alone.

"Okay James, now what? Is this water supposed to be a safety, so you don't burn the Burrow down?"

"Oh? Did I not tell you? The blue fireworks are new, they're wet-start."

"Wet-start?"

"Yeah, the moment they get wet the explode into sparks and colors and it's all sea themed: dolphins, whales, sharks, ships, it's very cool. Uncle George just developed them, they're not even on the shelves yet."

I blinked. "So now what?"

James cracked a grin. "Well, now you just stand there, I suppose."

"What?"

James grinned again and realization hit me like lightening. "JAMES! I was, you were... this was supposed to be a pathetic prank!"

By now Louis was grinning too. "That was actually, pretty clever, cuz, lowering her guard only to trap her when she least expected it."

"Why thank you, cuz. Mind getting Fred for me? He needs to see this, so he can properly judge."

Louis grinned at James, shot me a 'bad luck, mate' look and left.

"So this is the big prank? I'm just supposed to stand here until my arms get tired and then let myself get soaking wet and face full of fireworks?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Now, I could have admired James' tactics, it really was a good prank, but I was too mad that I had let him lure me into this so easily. I wasn't gullible, not really. But apparently my common sense stopped working around James. "This is pathetic! This is the worst prank I've ever had the misfortune of bearing the brunt of."

"No, it's not, stop lying and get on with the show." With that he conjured himself a chair and flopped down in it, his face eager. "Too bad I didn't think ahead and bring popcorn."

"You're horrible, I hate you."

"Aw, c'mon, you knew you'd be getting pranked today. Unless, did you perhaps think I'd fail? Did I exceed your expectations? Are you willing to admit that I, James Sirius Potter, did a prank that was beyond even your amazing imagination? Are you regretting ever insinuating that you may be a slightly better prankster than myself? Are you combing through your mem..."

I interrupted him. "And here I thought I was the rambler in this friendship. Where's Fred? I want to get this over with."

"Well," James commented, twirling his wand like a baton. "I could magic the bucket up there."

"What do you mean?"

"Yes, it would only take a simple sticking charm. I could stick the bucket up there, you could move and then I'd climb up on that stool and get the bucket before the water hit the fireworks."

I was starting to like this idea. "You know, I'll bet Grandmum Weasley would go ballistic if you set off fireworks in the house."

James nodded. "It's settled then. All you have to do is say yes, Isabelle and I'll play a different prank on you."

"Say yes? To what?"

"The question."

I narrowed my eyes. "Which question?"

"The question I'm about to ask."

"And if I say no?"

"Then you're doomed to an evening of wet fireworks in you face. Don't worry, they won't actually burn you, but they'll probably ruin your clothes. Sorry about that."

"Well what's the question?"

"What's your answer?"

"I'm not going to answer until I hear the question, James Potter!"

"Well, then, go out with me Isabelle Cross!"

I nearly dropped the broom, and thus the bucket, right then and there. Of course, the only thing my mouth could think to say was, "That's not a question."

He rolled his eyes. "This upcoming Hogsmeade weekend, would you accompany me on a date?"

I blinked. This wasn't a sick dream, this was reality and he was serious. I could see the nervous hope in his big brown eyes. "No."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, once again, the picture of arrogance. "Fine then, I'll be happy to watch you suffer the consequences then."

"Wait, James, you can't... this is ridiculous!"

"No, it's really not. This is my prank, it was ridiculous of me to offer you a way out."

I closed my eyes to think for a minute. "So let me get this straight. I agree to go on one, singular, date with you to Hogsmeade next month and you'll get me out of this trap?"

"That's right."

"You swear it?"

"On my honor as a Potter."

I bit my tongue, knowing I would hate myself for this later. "Fine. Yes, I'll go out with you."

James eyebrows drew together. "Really?"

"Yes, isn't that what you wanted?"

"Well, yeah, but I didn't expect...no matter. There you go." He pointed his wand at the bucket and I released the broom's pressure on the bucket's bottom the tiniest bit. It held.

"Thank God!" I moved away completely and the bucket remained stuck to the ceiling. I glared at James. "You're an arse."

He nodded, ignoring me completely and staring up at the bucket. "And now I've got to come up with another prank."

Louis finally returned with Fred in tow and James snapped his fingers. "Got it!"

"Got what?" Fred, Louis and I asked in unison.

"Fred, go stand under that bucket and be ready to catch it."

"No!" Fred protested, "How daft do you think I am?"

James glared at him and seemed to send a mental message because Fred sighed and stood in the center of the fireworks circle. He threw us a very plastic smile. "Now what?"

James pointed his wand at the bucket. "Catch."

He leaned closer to me and hissed, "I'm going to blow the bucket up."

"What?" I hissed back.

"I'm going to make the bucket explode." He shouted something in latin and flicked his wand. There was a moment of complete silence before the bucket exploded with a loud bang.

"Hey, what the...?!" Fred shouted the fizzing and popping of the wet-start fireworks drowned out his swearing.

The kitchen filled with blue and sea-green smoke and lights shaped like fish, mermaids, waves, octopi and other ocean themed creatures and shapes. James grabbed my hand and pulled me outside and soon Louis and a livid and soaking Fred joined us.

"What was that, James?"

"Don't look at me. She was supposed to save you!"

I felt my face contract into a look of pure astonishment. "It's my fault? How do you figure that one?"

"Simple. I told you I was going to make the bucket blow up. You were supposed to do the chivalrous thing and throw yourself over Fred to protect him."

"James. That's mental." Louis enunciated slowly.

"Why would I save Fred?" I asked. "No offense."

"None taken." Fred agreed. "James, I may have to kill you. That was the most poorly executed prank I've ever seen. And I'm counting my kid brother's goat attempt."

James rolled his eyes. "It wasn't that bad..."

"Yes it was." Louis cut in. "Now I don't know about you, but I'm getting out of here before one of our parents comes to investigate that noise."

I refused to look at James. "Yeah, I better be getting home. See you all later."

"Isabelle." James began but I ignored him. He'd asked me out and I'd say yes. There was nothing more to say. I turned the corner only to find Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron in a heated conversation in the next room and I ducked back into the hall. Unfortunately I could hear James and Fred, but that was better than overhearing a lover's spat.

"I'm going to kill you, James. What the hell was that?"

"Get in line." I heard James groan. "Isabelle's going to kill me first."

"Why?"

"Asked her out... She said yes, by the way."

"Man, now I have to kill you twice over. She wasn't supposed to say yes. You were supposed to be humiliated."

"Well, I kind of was anyway, wasn't I?"

"True. Maybe I'll only kill you once...naw, I'll kill you twice. Then I'll kill you again, after the date if you botch it up, or hurt her, or both."

Their voices were getting louder and I decided that passing by a red-eared Uncle Ron and bright eyes Aunt Hermione was better than getting caught listening in on James and Fred talking about our... date.

Man I hoped that idea would get more pleasant before Hogsmeade.

* * *

**A/N: So I realize I've been a horrible updater but leave a review please?**


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